


Baby Mama

by SeeThemFlying



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Cersei Lannister and Jaime Lannister Are Not Related, Cersei and Jaime are in a relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, JC dub-con, JC non-con, Modern AU, Pregnancy, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Starts off Fluffy, Surrogate Pregnancy, TAKES A TURN TO THE ANGST, but this is not jc friendly, depictions of an abusive relationship, platonic boners, then ends up at fluffy again, warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:27:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 53
Words: 183,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21711448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeeThemFlying/pseuds/SeeThemFlying
Summary: Trust fund kid Jaime Lannister loves his movie star girlfriend Cersei, and, even though they don't have matching soulmarks, he wants to settle down and start a family. Cersei has other plans, however, as she doesn't want to ruin her Size Zero figure in case it jeopardises her chance at an Iron Throne Award, and demands Jaime find a surrogate.Enter Brienne Tarth, struggling PhD student who volunteers her womb for nine months in exchange for a lump sum that will alleviate her debts and help her care for her sick father.Both Jaime and Brienne think it will be nothing more than a simple transaction, based on his desire for a child and her need for hard cash.Unfortunately, they have matching soulmarks.Oops.
Relationships: Background Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister, Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 2847
Kudos: 1339





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, thanks for rocking up for this fic!
> 
> This emerged from my "A Thousand and One" tumblr prompts series but, due to popular demand, it is now spiralling out into a fully fledged fic, so I will now post updates to it here rather than there! 
> 
> I have no idea how often I will update this, and will probably rely on people poking me on my tumblr (@SeeThemFlying) to give me ideas, but I hope you enjoy!

“I want a baby,” announced Cersei one evening when the two of them came back from a depressing night at the Iron Throne Awards, Cersei having not won a prize for her recent starring role as Argella Durrandon in _The Storm Queen_.

Jaime’s mouth dropped open in shock. “What?”

“Margaery Tyrell is having a baby with god knows who, and it is making the gossip columns _notice,_ ” Cersei declared, folding her arms in irritation across her chest. “Being a mother might also allow me to branch out into new roles; can you believe Varys from _The Daily Whisperer_ called my performance in _The Storm Queen_ hard-nosed? For gods’ sake, I even went method and spent a month swimming around Shipbreaker’s Bay for that role! I’m telling you… I’ll show him how soft I can be when I’ve got a cute little baby in my arms!”

Jaime was so happy he could have burst. He and Cersei had been together three years ever since her mother Joanna, a crazed momager who wanted her daughter to be the next big thing in the acting world _,_ had cooked up a deal with Tywin Lannister to get Jaime to walk the red carpet and take her to the premiere of _The War of the Five Kings._ An up-and-coming actress and a billionaire’s son seemed a natural pairing, and although it had started as a showmance, a real relationship had bloomed, mainly over a joint distain for their controlling parents.

Free from his father, Jaime’s relationship with Cersei made him immensely happy. However, there was a small problem. In the last few months, Cersei had been reticent about when she wanted to do the whole _having a baby_ thing, even though she knew that Jaime needed to be a father so badly it sometimes physically hurt that he wasn’t. She thought she was doing what she was contractually obliged to do; they were engaged and had an opulent wedding on the Summer Isles planned the following year, yes, but Cersei kept putting him off about starting a family, like it was some sort of inconvenience.

_Later…_

_Not now! I’ve got to think of my career!_

_I want to win an Iron Throne Award first, baby, then I promise!_

Overjoyed that she was finally coming around to his point of view, Jaime put his arms around her and kissed her fully on the mouth. Unexpectedly, she wriggled away from him.

“What are you doing?” she asked, almost annoyed.

Jaime looked at her confusedly, “you said you wanted a baby. I vote we start trying now.”

Cersei rolled her eyes at him, like he was some sort of ignoramus. “Oh god, do you seriously think I’m going to look like a beached-whale for nine months? No! I’d lose my career in an instant! It’s called a _surrogate_ , Jaime. I want an oven-ready baby; I don’t want to have to do the baking myself.”

“But…”

Sensing he was about to object; Cersei gave him one of her prettiest smiles. “If you loved me you would agree.”

He knew she was correct. That’s what love was. Agreeing.

* * *

In the end, Jaime had to do all the heavy legwork on actually looking for the surrogate, as Cersei was contracted to play Ellaria Sand in the new historical TV Show _The Sand Snakes_ and had to go on an extended trip to Dorne _._ Giving Jaime a quick peck on the cheek before she left, Cersei gazed up at him, her smile not touching her green eyes. “I expect you will have found the surrogate by the time I get back.”

“Sure,” he replied, even though he did not really know how to go about finding a surrogate. “I will because I love you.”

“I know you do,” she replied.

In the months that Cersei was gone, Jaime applied himself to the task with aplomb, because he loved his girlfriend and wanted to make her happy. He almost did not care that they weren’t soulmates - in three years, he had kissed every inch of her body and had never come across the little blue sword soulmark that had appeared on his bicep when he was fifteen - because what they had was true love. Real love. In fact, to Jaime, Cersei _was_ love, because she was the only person who had ever truly cared for him.

That’s why he was determined to find a suitable surrogate.

He eventually struck gold by just asking around King’s Landing. His brother Tyrion told him about a post-graduate student at his university who was struggling (and by the sounds of it, failing) to fund her studies and look after her dad who had a major heart problem.

“She already has two jobs alongside her PhD,” said Tyrion, “and barely has a social life because of it, so she might be open to getting a lump sum in exchange for you and Cersei renting her womb for nine months.”

Chasing the only lead he had, two weeks later, Jaime found himself in a dingy bar called _Lady Catelyn’s Dungeon,_ buying the tallest, broadest, ugliest woman he had ever seen a drink.

“So, what else are you offering?” Brienne asked, taking a sip of her gin and tonic, “just ten thousand dragons?”

In spite of himself, Jaime scoffed at her. “I thought you were poor. How can it _just_ be ten thousand dragons?”

Brienne shook her head at him, clearly unhappy with him being so condescending “You are literally asking to rent my body out so you and your girlfriend can have a baby. There’s got to be some perks beyond the monetary.”

Having struggled to even find _one_ woman willing to be a surrogate for him and Cersei, Jaime thought about things that might convince this homely, probably lonely woman of agreeing to his plan. Guessing that she might be the type to be swayed by green eyes, gold hair, and dimples, Jaime quickly settled on an answer. “I’ll look after you through the whole process, as if you had a _partner_ by your side. I’ll make you dinner, kit you out with any new clothes you want, come to all your appointments and check-ups… anything you need, I’ll be there. I know this would be a big sacrifice for you, so I would try to be helpful in any way I can.”

To his surprise, Brienne did not look flattered, but instead just narrowed her eyes at him. Clearly, she did not trust the trust fund son of Tywin Lannister. “You will? You won’t just leave me to fend for myself?”

“Of course I won’t,” vowed Jaime. “You would be facilitating my dream of being a father with the woman I love. I would never leave you to deal with this alone.”

So, to his immense gratitude, Brienne Tarth agreed.

* * *

Cersei flew back to King’s Landing from Dorne for a weekend so her eggs could be extracted, but other than that, it was all Jaime and Brienne. Jaime was there for Brienne for her doctor’s appointments, drove her to and from check-ups, and always took her for lunch afterwards. Strangely, she was also always on the other end of the phone when Cersei was ignoring him and he needed someone to talk to, armed with kind words and jokes.

Within a few weeks, Jaime had tentatively started calling her one of his friends.

The weekend they were informed that the implantation had been successful, Jaime took Brienne out for dinner at a local sports restaurant to celebrate, where they ate chicken wings and watched a football match between the _King’s Landing Kingsmen_ and the _Stormland Stallions._ Brienne got so passionately involved in the game that Jaime couldn’t help but laugh at her incessant screaming every time one of the _Stormland Stallions_ was fouled.

“I don’t know why you get so angry,” he chuckled. “It’s only a football game. Everyone knows that Baelish is a tricksy player.”

“Because cheating is dishonourable,” Brienne declared. “If you are a sportsman, you must play fair.”

Brienne was so goddamn earnest, Jaime couldn’t help but smile, and his grin only grew over the next few months. He had not expected it, but Jaime had to acknowledge something weird was happening that made him really, really happy; because she was pregnant, Brienne permitted Jaime to look after her in a way Cersei would never have countenanced him caring for her.

It felt close, right, and good. And a little fuzzy.

In the evenings, Jaime would go and pick Brienne up from her tiny flat and take her back to the palatial apartment he nominally shared with Cersei. He would cook for her and, to Jaime’s surprise, Brienne was adventurous with a big appetite in a way Cersei never was. It meant over the weeks, Jaime could eat something other than Cersei’s rabbit food, as Brienne let him try all sorts of crazy recipes on her and marked them out of ten.

“I preferred the Goulash to the Pad Thai, but only because you overdid it with the chilli in the latter,” she said teasingly when they were discussing what to have for dinner one night. “Although if you want to try the Steak and Kidney Pie again, I wouldn’t be against the idea.”

So he made her Steak and Kidney Pie and the two of them ate it on trays in front of the TV while watching their joint favourite film; _The Kingslayer and the Wench._

“I bet the historical Kingslayer and Blue Knight weren’t in love in real life,” said Brienne, taking a big mouthful of pie.

“No?” Jaime smiled. “What? Do you think he was too pretty for her?”

Brienne snorted derisively, “no. It’s just he was far too dishonourable for her.”

After they finished eating, Brienne tidied up the plates and took them back to the kitchen, and Jaime could not help but notice that she was limping slightly as she walked. Concerned, when she sat back down, Jaime asked, “what’s wrong with your foot?”

Dismissively waving her hand, Brienne said, “oh, I just went for a jog yesterday and rolled my ankle. It’s no biggie.”

Feeling chivalrous towards his rent-a-womb, Jaime shuffled closer. “Let me give you a foot massage,” he offered, not liking that she was in pain.

To his surprise, Brienne blushed a blotchy red colour at that suggestion. “Oh… I don’t know… Cersei wouldn’t like that. Would she?”

Jaime shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. She’s not here.”

_She’s never here,_ he thought.

“I don’t know…” said Brienne slowly.

“Come on,” Jaime chided gently. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

Perhaps it was the fact that he was smiling at her, but for some reason, Brienne finally relented and stretched out her leg so that her foot was resting on his thigh. Wasting no time, Jaime pressed his thumb into the indent of Brienne’s ankle, which made her gasp. “Sorry, did that hurt?”

“Only a little,” she said quietly. “Why don’t you massage the rest of my foot? Don’t touch the centre of pain directly.”

Nodding, Jaime looked into her eyes and was momentarily derailed from his task. They were so astonishingly blue.

“You okay?” she asked suddenly, her cheeks still pink under all her freckles.

“Of course,” replied Jaime, sheepishly dropping his gaze back towards her foot. “I just wanted to work out the best way to do this.”

In the end, Jaime pulled off her Oathkeeper themed sock and began pushing his thumb into the ball of her foot, which elicited a little groan from his Baby Mama. Finding her noises strangely pleasing, Jaime then moved on to her toes, rubbing the pads with his fingers.

“Do you like that?”

“Yeah,” she replied, her voice breathy as she closed her eyes.

Putting more effort into his work, Jaime began to use his second hand as well, rubbing his thumbs in small circles, pushing almost imperceptible groans and grunts from her mouth. Sliding his fingers across her skin, Jaime could not help but take immense pleasure in tracing the little patterns in her freckles; a tree, a house, a child…

_A sword._

Jaime swallowed, his mind stuttering over the discovery he had just made. On the side of Brienne’s big toe, almost hidden from view, was a blue sword soulmark.

The twin to his own.

Leaping up from the sofa as if he had been burned, Jaime stared down at her incredulously. Brienne just looked a little worried. “Are you alright?” she asked, biting her lip nervously, clearly not understanding what had just happened.

“Yeah, I… I…” he stammered, his face getting hotter and hotter by the second, “I just need to go to the toilet.”

Without another word, Jaime turned on his heel and ran from the room, not wanting to deal with the truth he had just seen burned on Brienne’s skin.

_I love Cersei,_ he told himself. _I love Cersei._

_I love…_

_Brienne?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks very much! I hope you stay for the ride!


	2. Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne feels awkward about the situation...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for coming back! This chapter is as far as I have currently written in my tumblr prompts, so please let me know in comments or in a tumblr ask (@SeeThemFlying) what you would like to see from these two.

When Brienne was forced to root around for a word to describe her current situation, she could only come up with one: _awkward._

It was awkward to tell people about her pregnancy, and then explain she was not actually carrying her own child but acting as a surrogate for a super-rich couple who couldn’t be bothered to do all the heavy lifting themselves. After she had broached that point, Brienne then found it even more awkward to say that the super-rich couple had to remain anonymous, as that only succeeded in sounding like a conspiracy. She also struggled with the awkwardness of not visiting her dad; he was an old fashioned sort of guy and would not understand that she had rented her body out for a quick buck. Furthermore, the shock of it would probably only make his heart condition even worse.

Yet, none of those issues were as awkward as the one that was slowly coming to dominate Brienne’s heart and mind: that she had a _thing_ for Jaime Lannister, and she couldn’t bring herself to shake it off.

Of course, when she had first met him, Brienne had noticed he was incredibly attractive - it was impossible to miss - and she got the strange sense that he often used his pretty eyes and cute dimples to get his own way. Knowing that he likely fell in the category of men who thought they could use their beauty for the own ends on ugly girls like her, Brienne had promised herself that she would be resistant to Jaime’s charms. That had proved totally impossible, however, as during her pregnancy, he had insisted on looking after her and taking care of her like this was a real relationship, as if she was his girlfriend he loved dearly. He cooked for her, drove her places, listened to her problems and offered practical solutions, just like a good boyfriend would. It was _weird_ … but _great_ … but _terrible_ all at the same time. Sometimes, Jaime even made her feel like it was their baby she was carrying, and that one day the two of them would be able to snuggle up together with their child in their arms, marvelling over the miracle they had created together.

_It’s a beautiful dream,_ she told herself, _but not real._

Brienne had been able to keep her terrifying feelings at bay until the day Jaime had offered her a foot massage. In every place his fingers had danced across her skin, she burned as brightly as a star. Lost to the incredible sensation of his hands on her, Brienne had imagined what it would be like if he touched her elsewhere; on her face, her neck, her breasts, between her thighs. Against her will, her mouth released contented little moans and sighs that told him too much and too little. Perhaps that was why, in the end, Jaime had jumped away from her, making some lame excuse about needing to go to the toilet.

_He’s disgusted with me,_ she thought sadly, _disgusted that I want him, disgusted that I’ve misconstrued the signs, and most of all disgusted with my ugly face._

Once she had realised where she and Jaime stood, it made it much easier to push him away. As she was only three months pregnant, Brienne could use the excuse that she could manage for herself in the evenings.

_I don’t need him to cook for me. I don’t need him to look after me._

_It doesn’t matter if I want him too._

During the days, Brienne threw herself into working at Seaworth’s bookshop, the first of her two part time jobs, in order to give herself something to do and enable her to ignore all his incessant texts.

_Jaime:_ You should come around to mine tonight. I want to try making fajitas, and I need a willing test subject.

_Brienne:_ You know I can’t. I’ve got to do extra hours at Seaworth’s tonight. Davos is going to see _Patchface_ at the Dragonpit, so I need to close up for him.

_Jaime:_ What time do you finish?

_Brienne:_ Eight.

_Jaime:_ Well, I’ll come pick you up then.

_Brienne:_ No, it’s okay. I can walk.

_Jaime:_ Like hell I’m going to let you walk. There’s meant to be a pretty terrible storm coming in from the Stormlands later today, and you are in no condition to be trudging through that weather.

_Brienne:_ I’m only three months pregnant, not paralysed.

_Jaime:_ Three months pregnant with _our_ baby. I told you, I’m going to look after you.

_Our baby._ Brienne had never thought that two such simple words would make her heart flutter. However, a moment later, Jaime corrected himself.

_Jaime:_ When I mean *our* I’m talking about mine and Cersei’s, obvs. You and me would be weird LOL.

_Yes,_ thought Brienne darkly, _it’s laugh out loud hilarious that we could ever even be a hypothetical pair… hysterical to think that you might want me._

Consequently, she stopped answering him.

_Jaime:_ I’ll be outside at eight, yeah? Then you can come back to mine and I’ll stuff you with fajitas.

_Jaime:_ Brienne, can you confirm you will be ready?

_Jaime:_ Brienne?

In the end, Brienne could not take any more of his well-intentioned but hurtful caring, so she switched her phone off and went back to doing the tedious stock take of all the books on the ground floor of Seaworth’s. Today, she was focused on the fantasy section, meaning she was having to look at the covers and see handsome knights and fair ladies staring mockingly back at her.

_Oooh, this one is about Jaime and Cersei-like characters,_ she thought, internally torturing herself.

_As is this one…_

_As is this one…_

Nobody ever wrote books about women who looked like Brienne Tarth, because, in the real world, nobody _cared_ about women who looked like Brienne Tarth.

_And even if they act like they do,_ she thought, _it is only because they are renting out my womb for nine months. Nothing more._

It was the monotonous repetition of the stock take - _check, count, tick -_ that eventually allowed Brienne to push her worries and concerns to the back of her mind and think of something other than Jaime’s green eyes. Indeed, she became so engrossed in her task that she missed the moment it started raining, and only gave a cursory acknowledgement to the weather when the wind lashed against the windows and the thunder started rumbling in the distance.

_It’s only a bit of rain,_ she thought. _I’ll make sure I am out of here by eight, so I don’t bump into Jaime if he turns up._

Brienne was entirely happy with that plan as the afternoon turned into the evening until, quite suddenly, she heard an almighty smash coming from the basement, all breaking glass and gushing water.

_Oh crap, what was that?_

Abandoning her checklist, Brienne went running down to the basement, quite forgetting to pick up the key. She regretted it the instant she was inside as the door locked shut behind her with a loud _click_. Her mistake was further accentuated by a loud roll of thunder that sounded perilously close. Things then got even worse when she discovered where the noise had come from; it had clearly been raining so hard that the rainwater had guttered down the hill. As Seaworth’s was at the lowest point of Flea Bottom, it seemed the torrent of water had smashed into the basement’s little window, broken the glass, and was now pouring into the shop unabated.

_The books!_ thought Brienne panickily, as she charged down the stairs and tried to save the stock that Davos had stored in the basement for safe keeping. Working quickly, she began to lift the books of the floor and place them everywhere she could reach - on top of the cabinets, in the cupboards, up on the table - even as water began to pool around her feet, then her ankles, then her knees.

_God, I need to call Davos, this is a nightmare!_

Unfortunately, she had left her phone up in the shop, and had no way of contacting him, so just had to keep doing what she could to make sure the new books were not totally submerged. Moving carefully, for the first time since her agreement with Jaime had started, Brienne appreciated the extra strain put on her body by her pregnancy.

_Maybe I should let Jaime help me,_ she considered. _Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if I…_

“Brienne?” came a loud voice from up in the shop, “where are you?”

Relief flooding over her, Brienne answered him in an instant. “Jaime! I’m down in the basement! I’m locked in! Can you get the key from the counter?”

“Sure! I’ll be one moment!”

After a few moments of distant shuffling, Brienne eventually heard the click of the lock and the door swing open. Her knight in shining armour - Jaime fricking Lannister of all people - was standing the other side in soaking wet clothes, looking like a drenched god.

“Quick!” she called. “You need to help me! We’ve got to get these books upstairs, otherwise Davos will lose his stock!”

Not waiting to ask why, Jaime was down the stairs in and instant, and the two of them had a chain going before Brienne had time to wonder why it felt so natural; she would take the books of the shelves, and then Jaime would run back up to the shop with them. After twenty minutes of going backwards and forwards up and down the stairs, they had eventually rescued all the books, and had them store safely in a new home. Once she had checked everything upstairs was undamaged, Brienne immediately went to ring Davos, and was glad to get her boss’ assurance that he would be with her as soon as possible. When she hung up, Brienne finally turned to look at Jaime, who was staring at her with bright eyes.

“Right,” he declared, “now you are _definitely_ going to come back to mine and letting me cook you dinner. You’re shivering. It will help warm you up and make you feel better.”

Brienne thought the only thing that would make her feel better in that moment was him wrapping his arms around, but she did not vocalise that sentiment. Instead, she just looked at him sullenly. “No, I need to go back to my flat and check everything is alright. It is in Flea Bottom too.”

“Okay,” said Jaime quickly, clearly trying to be supportive. “I’ll drive you.”

“No, I can…”

“Please, don’t you dare say you can walk. It’s like hurricane season out there. I will drive you, Baby Mama, come on.”

Even as she crumbled internally at the endearing nickname he had just bestowed upon her, Brienne could not find the strength to object; not when Davos arrived and told her she could go home, not when the rain let off slightly, and definitely not when Jaime locked his fingers with hers and led her back out to his flashy car. As they began to drive away from the shop, Brienne was immensely thankful that Jaime turned on the radio and started singing along to some generic pop song in his awful, out of tune voice, because it meant she could smile at him for a reason other than she just _wanted_ to.

Considering the day she had had, Brienne had thought she would be relieved when she got home, as her flat had a door with a lock that she could use to keep Jaime Lannister and his fine eyes at bay. However, it turned out that just as Davos’ bookshop had been taken out by the torrential flooding, so had her tiny little basement flat. Walking into her ruined lounge, her feet making loud splashing sounds, Brienne could not stop the tears coming to her eyes.

_This is my whole life,_ she despaired, _everything I own in the world…_

Yet, even at that bleak realisation, a spark of hope burned, as Jaime slung his strong arm around her and pulled her close. The sudden physical intimacy felt tantalisingly warm and safe.

“Come on,” Jaime said consolingly, his tone kind and sincere, “let’s try and save what we can, then you can come back to mine and have the spare bed for as long as you need.”

Not wanting to inconvenience him, Brienne tried to object. “I’ll get a hotel,” she claimed instantly, even though she knew she had no money for one, “a hostel, maybe, I’ll…”

Jaime rolled his eyes at her, suddenly irritated. “You’ll let me look after you, that’s what you’ll do! God, stop pushing me away. You have done a wonderful thing for me and Cersei, so I want to be there for you in any way I can. Just accept a bit of kindness, okay?”

_A bit of kindness?_ thought Brienne blankly, _I’m not used to that._

“Okay,” she replied, defeated by his never-ending warmth.

Utterly charmed by his desire to care for her, Brienne accepted Jaime’s kindness as he helped her pack up her most precious possessions, and then again when he drove them all over to his apartment; she accepted it when he helped her set up her new room, which was plush and extravagant in a way she never thought possible; and when he offered to tumble dry her clothes.

“Just change into something warm, and then come and bring them into the utility room,” he said with a smile, and Brienne found herself obeying in an instant, melting for the simple reason that he was concerned for her. 

When she got back to her new bedroom, Brienne had to admit it felt strange to pull her shirt over her head and shuck her trousers off in Jaime’s apartment. For some reason that only Brienne knew, her skin felt more sensitive and goosebumps prickled down her neck when she remembered that he was not far away, only in the next room, and she was getting naked in his house.

A few minutes later, armed with her wet clothes and a strange sense of guilt, Brienne went to find Jaime. As expected, he was in the utility room putting dirty clothes in the washing machine, including his own. Now dressed in nothing but a pair of comfortable grey slacks, the entirety of Jaime Lannister’s perfectly formed back was visible to Brienne as she entered the room, and it made her feel strangely weak.

_Those are the kind of back muscles that prove god exists,_ she thought lustily, a blush coming to her cheeks.

The situation only got worse when Jaime turned around, revealing his lovely strong chest complete with a smattering of gold hair. It was as if he had been sculpted by Michelangelo.

_Who is this man?_ she thought. Not only did he like caring for her, Jaime Lannister was obnoxiously, unjustly beautiful. Due to all the things he was, Brienne’s throat went dry.

“Here are my clothes,” she mumbled, not able to quite look him in the eye.

Jaime smiled at her, perhaps sensing what she was thinking, and reached for the wet clothes. “Thanks,” he said, amusement in his tone. Attempting to hide her embarrassment, Brienne purposefully turned her eyes away from him, landing her gaze on his outstretched arm rather than his face.

And then she saw it.

Halfway up his tempting looking bicep was his soulmark. Over the years, Brienne had seen many people’s soulmarks; in fact, her friend Sansa had been utterly gleeful in showing Brienne hers when she first got it. However, never before in her life had she seen a blue sword that was so obviously a twin to her own.

Shooting him one, quick, panicked look, Brienne turned on her heel and ran out of the room. Jaime just laughed.

“Where are you going?”

“I’ve just got to… err… brush my hair,” she called back, even as her heart hammered so loudly, she could barely hear her own voice.

_Is Jaime my soulmate? He can’t be! He would hate it if he knew!_

_This can’t be possible?_

_Can it?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I love hearing from you in the form of comments and kudos!


	3. Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime thinks about Cersei...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this fic is a whole new endeavour for me, because I am usually such a rigorous planner, but this time I am taking a freer "gardener" style approach. Therefore, if you have any suggestions for where you want this story to go, please let me know in a comment (or prompt me on tumblr @SeeThemFlying)!
> 
> This chapter is based off AtomsandFairies suggestion that Jaime and Brienne have a discussion about soulmarks. I hope you enjoy!

After Brienne moved in, Jaime ordered a book off the internet: _Soulmarks and You: What it Means About Your Fate and Destiny_ by Melisandre Asshai. Once it arrived wrapped in brown paper, he switched the cover with a copy of his girlfriend's ghost-written autobiography - _Cersei: Why I Am Great -_ and sat around the house reading it, determined to find out whether it was that important that he and Brienne shared a soulmark, and if it could mean anything other than they were destined to have a big schmaltzy romance.

_You can have platonic soulmates,_ he thought, _I'm sure of it. Wouldn't it be cool for your best bud to be your soulmate? And that's what Brienne and I are..._

_Because I love Cersei. I know I love Cersei._

As he watched Brienne flit around the apartment, her belly starting to swell with his child, Jaime eagerly looked at the contents page to find some hope. A quick skim of the book then told Jaime that Melisandre was insightful on several topics - chances of meeting your soulmate, what if you never met your soulmate, happiness with your soulmate versus without - but nowhere did she mention Jaime's exact dilemma: what if you met your soulmate while you were with another and she turned out to be the surrogate mother of your future child? Furthermore, to his immense disappointment, Jaime found Melisandre very black and white in her thinking. The way she described soulmates was like light and darkness; one could not exist without the other, in fact, they needed each other, or they did not make sense.

_I managed perfectly well before Brienne,_ he thought sullenly, _because I am Cersei's other half... I am hers._

In order to remind himself of that fact, when Brienne volunteered to cook one evening, Jaime sat on the other side of the island in the open plan kitchen and made sure he rang Cersei in the most ostentatious way possible so his Baby Mama could witness how important his girlfriend was to him. As the phone rang, Jaime waited impatiently, as Brienne watched him over the steam from the slowly cooking dinner, her blue eyes feeling like lasers on his skin.

"Yo, who dis?" came Cersei's slurred voice, followed by a man's laugh.

Jaime narrowed his eyes. "Cersei? It's Jaime. Where are you?"

"Oh, you know, a party."

"A party?" he asked, confused. "I thought you were shooting night shoots this week? You know... you said the show was doing Arianne's coup as a story line and you were needed..."

"Yeah, we are... hey! Robert! Leave that alone! That's Jaime's!" Following Cersei's exclamation, there was a low rumble of laughter in the background which made Jaime's stomach twist in knots.

"Cersei," said Jaime quietly, trying not to let Brienne hear over the sizzling cooking, "where is this party?"

"In my trailer... Robbie, _no._ I told you! Stop going through my wardrobe."

That simple endearment - _Robbie_ \- made Jaime feel sick. He knew that Cersei's co-star, Robert Baratheon, was a noted womaniser. As Jaime was a member of the gilded social set that moved in high society, he had heard all about Robert's scandal involving Delena Florent on his brother's wedding bed, and that told him all he needed to know about the eldest Baratheon brother. In light of his presence in Cersei's trailer, Jaime suddenly became aware he was capable of great jealousy. Cersei had always been a bit of a flirt, but he always managed to remind himself that she loved him... that she was having a baby with him...

Unbidden, Jaime's eyes moved to Brienne and, for the first time, he noticed how her breasts were getting a little larger with her pregnancy. As his eyes trained down her body - taking in her strong shoulders, her slowly swelling breasts, her wide hips - Brienne spotted he was staring and tried to catch his eye. Blushing, Jaime looked away.

"Cersei," said Jaime forcefully, trying to get her attention once more. "Is it just you and Robert in your trailer?"

He could almost hear his girlfriend rolling her eyes. "What do you take me for? Of course it's not. My slave Taena is here too."

In the distance, Jaime swore he could hear someone squeak, "I'm your PA, Cers..." before his girlfriend cut across her.

"Shut up, Taena, and go get Robert and I some more wine."

Cersei's speech was so slurred that Jaime thought she had probably drunk too much. "Cersei, don't you think you should slow down a little? Especially if you've got a night shoot later?"

"Piss off, you're not my mother," she giggled, which elicited another raucous chuckle from Robert. Jaime's heart fell.

"No, I'm not," he conceded, "but I am your boyfriend and... it's my job to worry about you."

"Gods, you worry too much! I'm just having a drink with a friend. Don't get your knickers in a twist. We'll chat later. Ciao."

"Cersei!" he called, trying to make her stay on the line. "Cersei!"

However, it was too late; she had hung up.

Wanting to regain control of the situation, Jaime tried to ring her again, but found his girlfriend did not want to answer. Slightly despairing, Jaime ended up texting her, needing her to know how important she was to him, how much he cared.

_Jaime:_ Hey C, would love to catch up properly later. Give me a call, yeah? I want to know how everything is going in Dorne. Love you xxx

When he put the phone down, Jaime realised Brienne was gazing at him, her blue eyes wide and searching. "What are you staring at?" he snapped, a little bit angrier than he had anticipated.

Unperturbed by his tone, Brienne answered simply. "You," she said honestly. "That didn't sound like the friendliest conversation with Cersei." Just at that juncture in the conversation, Brienne tore her eyes away from him and began to serve up the stir fry she was making. Strangely, he found he missed the knowing security of her gaze and wanted her to look back at him again.

"It wasn't," he mumbled, feeling vulnerable. "She's drinking with Robert Baratheon in her trailer."

Expecting a little sympathy, Jaime was surprised when Brienne smiled at him with amusement in her eyes. "Why did you just do that?"

"What?"

"Say _Robert Baratheon_ in a stupid voice like you hate the guy."

"Because I _do_ hate the guy," Jaime muttered as Brienne put his dinner down in front of him. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," she replied quickly, shuffling into the seat next to him, splaying her thighs slightly to make room for her changing body. "How long have you known him?"

As Brienne looked at him expectantly, Jaime found he could not meet her gaze. "I don't know him, but his reputation proceeds him. It's well known he has a taste for beautiful women."

"And Cersei is a beautiful woman," said Brienne, tying his sentence up in a neat bow.

Jaime nodded, before taking a bite of his dinner. "She is beautiful... stunning... gorgeous."

"Mmm," replied Brienne, turning away from him to eat her dinner. Her silence made Jaime braver, and he found himself delving into the problem in a way he would with no one else.

"She's the other half of me. We complete each other. People sometimes think that her physical beauty is all I see in her, but in truth, it's so much more than that." Remembering Melisandre's words, Jaime stole some of her metaphors. "We are light and dark, complementary, conflicting. I don't make sense without her."

Lost in the romanticism of his thoughts about Cersei, Jaime was only brought back to earth when Brienne let out a little scoff. "Now I know you have been reading _Cersei: Why I Am Great_ for far, _far_ too long."

"I have not," he said sullenly, knowing full well he had not read any of her autobiography at all. "It's just... I love her. I wouldn't know what to do if she wasn't in my life."

"You would be you," said Brienne forcefully, taking another scoop of her dinner. "Full, complete, and whole. Wonderful because you are so individually _you_. You don't need Cersei to fill in your gaps."

Jaime suddenly found himself a little irritated. "Why not? Because I don't share a soulmark with her?"

At his mention of the topic he had been skirting around for weeks, ever since he had discovered the mark on her foot, Brienne went a little pink. When he had saved her from her flooded flat, Jaime had wondered if Brienne had noticed his soulmark and whether she had come to the same conclusion as he had. However, if she had, Brienne did not mention it. Indeed, her silence made him think she had not worked it out.

"No," she said slowly, "that's not what I meant."

"Then what?"

Brienne fixed him with a serious look. "I meant _exactly_ what I said. You don't need anyone to complete you. You are whole as you are, Jaime Lannister, and if you have someone who shares your soulmark is waiting for you out there, she won't complete you either. You are a whole person just as you are. You are enough."

At her incessant sincerity, Jaime felt a lump bloom in his throat. "You think someone with my soulmark is out there waiting for me?"

"Perhaps," said Brienne, dropping her eyes to her food. "But what does that even mean? Nobody can explain soulmarks, and there are people who think they're just random, and don't mean anything. Scientists haven't been able to work out what they are even for..."

"Even so," replied Jaime levelly, "I was reading a book the other day that said those who share soulmarks are always pulled to one another and can never truly be separated once they have found each other." That was one of Melisandre's more poetic flourishes; Jaime wondered whether it was true.

Brienne wrinkled her nose; she seemed sceptical. "You think?" she murmured, her voice husky.

"I don't know," he replied. "All I do know is I love Cersei and, whoever I share my soulmark with, she'll always come second to my girlfriend."

Jaime did not mean to deliver that news cruelly - he did not even think Brienne knew about the soulmark situation anyway - and his suspicions were confirmed when she just nodded, no emotion on her face. "I know. I think that's a sensible approach to take."

"You do?" he asked, surprised.

"Yes," she said, putting her fork down. "I think there is something weird and a bit sinister about being held in thrall to this random mark you are born with, that is supposed to dictate who you fall in love with and spend the rest of your life with. To me, it sounds like a prison; a romantic one, yes, but a prison, nonetheless. If I met the man who shared my soulmark, I would want to love him for _him,_ rather than because I felt I was obliged to by fate and destiny. I don't want to be a half. I am whole on my own."

In that moment, Jaime was struck by how much wisdom was contained in her overwhelming blue eyes, and it made him slightly in awe of her. Her admission concerning what she felt about soulmarks also made it easier for him to open up to her about the truth of their situation - they were soulmates - because she clearly believed it shouldn't determine the course of their lives. Free will had a part to play too. "Brienne," he began, warming up to tell her. "I think you and I..."

Right at that inopportune moment, his phone rang. It was Cersei. Hesitating, Jaime kept his eyes on Brienne, but she just gave him a small smile, picked up her bowl, and put one hand protectively on her stomach. "Answer it," she commanded gently, "she's who you chose, remember?"

"Yes, I remember," replied Jaime, lifting the phone up from the table as she broke eye contact with him.

"I'm going to go and eat in the lounge," Brienne announced, "so you two can have some privacy."

And before Jaime could stop her, Brienne left the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks very much for reading! If you liked that, please consider leaving comments or kudos!


	4. Part IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne muses on her conversation with Jaime with Sansa...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, thanks for coming back! All your suggestions are slowly being added to a rough plan of where this is going, so please keep them coming! I love all your comments and, in this case, it will help me shape the story in my mind :)

"That is _hideous,_ " grimaced Brienne, "I would rather walk around naked than wear that."

"Well you might have to at this rate," replied Sansa as the two of them wandered around the maternity clothes section of _Ellaria's_ , a super expensive designer store, trying to find anything that looked like is wasn't made in the mid-1840s or for a panda. "It's _all_ hideous, and the stuff that is passable they don't have in your size. It's shocking!"

"No," said Brienne gently, "it's _shopping_."

While it might come as a big surprise to Sansa that things didn't just look gorgeous the second you pulled them off the rack for most people, for Brienne, it was a daily reality. "Look, it doesn't really matter. I'm only three months gone. I can probably get wear out of my normal clothes for a little longer, especially if I just wear sweatpants."

Sansa shook her head. "Jaime has given you a thousand dragons to spend on clothes. _A thousand dragons,_ and that's on top of what he already gave you for actually renting out your womb. The least you can do is spend that money."

"On what?" asked Brienne exasperatedly. "They don't tend to do maternity clothes for someone the size of Wun Wun the Giant, Sansa."

Sansa rolled her eyes. "Stop being so dramatic. You're just _tall_ that's all. Maybe we can go and ask Ellaria if they can tailor some of the ones you like to fit you."

"But that will be expensive," said Brienne, shaking her head. "I don't want to be a burden to Jaime..."

"Be a burden to Jaime!" ordered Sansa. "You are doing him and his invisible girlfriend a massive favour by carrying around _their baby._ Be a damn burden. Get him to roll out the red carpet, buy you chocolates every day, give you a foot massage, whatever you want!"

At the mention of foot massages, Brienne suddenly felt the blood rushing to her face. Sansa spotted it instantly. "He _has_ given you a foot massage, hasn't he?"

"Once," conceded Brienne, going even redder. "It was nice."

_Nice._ It was that single word that caught Sansa's attention and the second Brienne said it, the redhead narrowed her eyes. After a few moments of considering her friend, the penny dropped and Sansa spoke. "Oh no," she said with a dramatic sigh.

"What?"

"You are into him, aren't you?"

Brienne felt a little sick. "I... I... I..."

"Oh gods you _are,_ " gasped Sansa. "Brienne, his girlfriend is _Cersei Marbrand._ She's a movie star, one of the most beautiful women in the world..."

Part of Brienne wanted to deny it, but she knew there was little point. "I know..."

"And he's the son of a billionaire!" squawked Sansa.

"I _know_..."

"Girl, you know I love you, but there are hopeless causes and there are hopeless causes. You'll just make yourself _miserable_ by pining over him. We are normal people and he's a... a..."

"Star?"

"Yes!" cried Sansa. "I can see the appeal of a blond demigod, but you fancying Jaime just makes it all so damn _complicated,_ especially as you are carrying his baby but it's not yours. _"_

Even though the picture already looked bloody awful, Brienne dropped her voice, preparing to unleash the full truth. "It's even worse than that, Sansa."

"Why?" asked Sansa, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"Not here," replied Brienne quickly, looking nervously around at the other shoppers. "Let's go for coffee."

* * *

They found a nice little coffee shop just around the corner from _Ellaria's_ with trendy decor and brews from all over the world. Brienne was very thankful that she and Sansa found a comfortable little corner to talk, because she was convinced her best friend was going to scream so loudly when she told her that they would need soundproofing.

"So, tell me," Sansa ordered, "what can be worse than having a crush on Jaime Lannister?"

In preparation for Sansa's response, Brienne kept her voice quiet, hoping to set the tone. "I saw his soulmark."

Sansa blinked, confused. "And?"

"It's a sword... the... the... twin of mine."

It took a few moments for that piece of information to sink in for Sansa, but when she did, a huge, ridiculous smile broke across her face. "You are kidding me!"

"No I'm not," replied Brienne, blushing again. "It's on his arm. I saw it."

"Oh my god, does he know?" gawped Sansa, grabbing Brienne's arm.

"No... of course he doesn't. He only sees me as the surrogate; he never actually _looks_ at me, so how the hell would he have spotted my soulmark?"

"Well you have to tell him!" declared Sansa excitedly, as if it was that easy.

"No," said Brienne forcefully, a little of her fear and anxiety seeping through into her tone.

"Why not?"

"Because... it wouldn't matter."

Gazing at Brienne like she was insane, Sansa did a pirouette from her earlier position and declared, "but you are _soulmates._ Once you tell him, he is sure to re-evaluate all his priorities..."

"But you said so yourself," interjected Brienne, "his girlfriend is Cersei Marbrand, he's the son of a billionaire, he's a _star._ Jaime could never be interested in me... he could never... _love_ me."

"But you are _soulmates,_ " said Sansa again, as if it washed away everything else. "This is more important than any of that!"

Brienne shook her head. "No it's not. Jaime and I have discussed soulmarks and he said that even if he found his soulmate it didn't matter, because he loved Cersei and he would always put her first."

"But..."

"Please, Sansa," interrupted Brienne, not wanting to hear the battle that had been going on in her own mind coming out of her friend's mouth, "please don't give me false hope."

"I'm not giving you false hope, I'm giving you _real_ hope," countered Sansa. "It might take a little time, but you could persuade him, I know you could, because you are adorable."

Brienne let out a little chuckle. "Thanks, but I don't think adorable is enough. I'd have to be hot and interesting and fun and sexy, just like he is, and I'm _none_ of those things."

Sansa sighed. "Of _course_ you are."

"Thanks for the endorsement, sweet, but I do own a mirror. I need someone normal, someone like me... not a star." She paused, momentarily weighing up whether she should say what she had been thinking for a few days out loud. "So... I was thinking of finding someone like me."

Sansa raised her eyebrows in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"I want to start online dating," announced Brienne in a rush, "because, if Jaime can put Cersei in front of his soulmate, maybe I can find someone I like too."

Perhaps it was the disappointed sweetness of her tone, or that Sansa knew when to fight and when not to, but Brienne's best friend eventually nodded. "I can see why you would want to do that, all things considered."

At Sansa's understanding, Brienne's heart felt a little lighter. "Good," she smiled. "Will you help me make a profile?"

Sansa's smile grew. "Of course I will, babe. The only question is, what type of man do you want, and which app will you use?"

If Brienne had been in a joking mood, she would have said whichever app would bring her a blond, kind, good, friendly, hot, son-of-a-billionaire soulmate into her life. Deciding to be practical, instead, Brienne said, "you pick, Sansa, but please choose one that will find me someone _normal."_

_Because that's what I am, in the end,_ Brienne thought.

_Normal. From Planet Earth._

_While Jaime is celestial._

_He is a star._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I would love to hear what you think in the form of comments and kudos!


	5. Part V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime finds out about Brienne's online dating plan...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lateness! I've been recovering from a cold so have not been in a writing mood. I hope you enjoy it, and please make suggestions for where you want to see this story go. I'm taking a gardener approach with this story, so it is all up to you!

Jaime had expected Brienne to come back from her shopping trip with Sansa laden with clothes; however, all she had returned with was a cheap pair of earrings she said looked nice. "But I gave you a thousand dragons," he said incredulously, when she asked him what he thought of the little crescent moons now hanging from her ears. "Surely you want more than that?"

"I'll _need_ more than that," she concurred, "but I don't want to go and blow loads of money on clothes that will not serve a purpose. I don't want to waste your money... especially on clothes that don't suit me."

"You didn't find anything you like?" he asked, surprise. Cersei _always_ found something she liked, even if she never wore it again.

Brienne shook her head. "Not really. _Ellaria's_ don't tend to make clothes for women like me."

Jaime narrowed his eyes at her in confusion. "Women like you? What do you mean women like you?"

"You know..." she said slowly, "women who are not made in the perfect ratio; too big, too tall, takes up too much space. _Ellaria's_ makes clothes for women like Cersei and I... I am not Cersei."

_No,_ he thought, _you are everything Cersei is not._

In the mornings, Jaime would come into the kitchen to find Brienne cooking, and she would offer him some of whatever she was making. Cersei would never do that. When Brienne was in the shower, Jaime sometimes caught a few moments of the joyous, earthy song she was singing, and its simplicity would always brighten his day. Cersei would never do that. If he had had a bad day at work, Jaime would always come home and find Brienne waiting for him, willing to listen to him and give him advice. Cersei would never do that.

_Even though she is nothing like Brienne, I love Cersei,_ he reminded himself, _I love Cersei..._

In some ways, it was quite funny that Brienne and Cersei were such polar opposites, especially as the former was willingly carrying the latter's baby. Yet, even though Cersei was the love of his life, Jaime was worried and concerned by the sad tone Brienne adopted when saying _I am not Cersei._ Jaime did not like it when his best friend felt down, so tried to cheer her up.

"You are not Cersei," he concurred, "but you are _Brienne_. Different from Cersei, yes, but equally as good."

To his surprise, at his heartfelt statement, Brienne let out a little scoff. "That is very sweet, Jaime, but there's no need to lie to me."

"I'm not lying," he insisted. "You are Cersei's equal in every way; you are kind and good, generous and honest... you have so many qualities that she doesn't have that are entirely your own... totally unique."

She gave him a sad smile. "But I don't have the only thing that matters, do I?"

"What's that?" he asked, lost.

"I'm unattractive," declared Brienne, her beautiful blue eyes sparkling, "and that's all that matters if you are a woman..."

"You are not unattractive!" spluttered Jaime, unable to comprehend why she would think that, "not in the slightest. How in hell have you come to that conclusion?"

At his question, a rosy blush came to her cheeks. "I've... I've..."

"Yes?"

She took a deep breath before pushing her answer out. "I've started online dating and, if that teaches you anything, it's whether you are ugly or not."

_Brienne is online dating?_ he thought incredulously. _She can't be online dating. She's far too good for that barrel of rats. Even if someone is attracted by her kindness and her nice eyes, surely the men she would meet on the internet would never be deserving of her, never worthy..._

However, Jaime did not voice any of these thoughts that were swarming around his head, because he could not find the words that would allow him to express them without sounding like an over-interested pervert. So, eventually, he settled for, "oh".

"You see," she smiled bitterly, "you agree with me. Online dating just proves it; I'm a three."

"You are _not_ a three!" cried Jaime, irritated by her preposterous line of argument. "It's just you don't know how to accentuate your features in photographs."

"Don't I?" she said sceptically.

"Of course you don't," he insisted. "I've seen you the last couple of days trying to take all sorts of photos from poor angles in crap lighting. If you want a decent photograph, let me help you. Come to my studio tomorrow at golden hour between 8am and 9am and I can take photos of you. It's what I am good at."

"Will you?" she asked, surprised.

"Of course!" Jaime replied enthusiastically, "I'm a professional photographer! I can help you! I want to help you... like you've helped me."

Brienne blushed, her colour as sweet and gentle as a rose. "Okay. That sounds nice," she said, her tone as delicate as glass.

Jaime's heart fluttered at the sound, before he checked himself and pushed that feeling away.

* * *

Jaime made sure he was at his photography studio earlier than he had told Brienne, because he wanted to make sure the space and the lights were well prepared for her. He had spent the last ten years as one of the world's most renowned fashion photographers; indeed, he had broken the internet with a titillating photoshoot of Cersei, which spoke of his talent behind the camera as much as his intimacy with her. He did not want the photos he took of Brienne to be so provocative, however. If she was intent on online dating (which he thought was ridiculous and totally beneath her), Jaime was going to make sure she did not appear slutty or cheap. He wanted to capture her innocence, which was the most attractive thing about her, and that would need soft lighting and a focus on her deep, never-ending gaze.

When Brienne arrived, she was wearing a pair of dungarees over a sky blue t-shirt with a pair of old sneakers. For once, she had dusted a little make-up on her face, yet it was not so extravagant as the war paint that Cersei usually wore. The whole ensemble was casual, but intensely her.

"Hey," he smiled, feeling warm now she was here, "you look great; the colour suits you. Perhaps I should start calling you the Blue Knight."

Once again Brienne blushed, and Jaime felt compelled to get out his camera and capture that moment. It would make any man fall in love with her. She seemed to disagree, however. "Oh... don't be silly. Just because it is our favourite film, it doesn't mean the nickname fits. Goldenhand the Just and the Blue Knight were legends; perhaps wench is more appropriate for me."

"Come on then _wench_ ," he grinned, "let's go take some photos."

Taking her by the hand, Jaime led Brienne into the studio and sat her down in front of the lights. The second he let go she started blinking worriedly, pulling at her dungarees, seemingly trying to make herself look more presentable. The sight made his chest ache. "You look lovely, wench. Don't be nervous. Don't worry."

"You've photographed lots of beautiful women, though," she said slowly, "Margaery Tyrell, _Cersei_..."

"Brienne Tarth," he finished, with a smile.

She wrinkled her nose in disapproval as he added her name to the pantheon of beautiful women. Seemingly, Brienne did not believe him. "You don't have to lie..."

"I told you, I'm not lying," Jaime said firmly, wanting to counter her preconceptions. "Just because you are not Cersei, it doesn't mean you don't have your own special sauce. Now come on. Let's take some photos and I'll prove it to you."

* * *

It was amazing how easily Brienne trusted him to make her look good, leading her from position to position with gentle suggestions and touches. Jaime knew the way to get the best photos was to bring out her pretty blush he loved so well, so he made sure to brush Brienne's hair out of her eyes and tuck it behind her ear, close enough so he could feel her breath on his face. The nearness turned her pink. Just then, there was something beautiful in her expression - demure, wide-eyed, and unbelieving - and it only grew when he ghosted his hand over her swelling belly.

Jaime had dreamt to be able to take photos of a pregnant Cersei, her body swollen and heavy with his child. However, Cersei had scoffed at the suggestion of getting "fat" and had not wanted to go through that wonderful natural process, so the closest he would ever get was with Brienne. Knowing this, Jaime smiled at her appreciatively. "That's our baby in there," he murmured admiringly, so impressed that she was willing to go through this trial for his happiness.

He had meant to be kind, but found her expression faltered. "Your baby, Jaime... your baby."

"Of course," Jaime said quickly, papering over his mistake. "You'll be free in six months... so we've got to make you look good for the dating app."

When Brienne nodded in agreement, a knot began to tie itself in Jaime's stomach. He didn't want to think about what would happen once the baby was born. It meant Brienne would go back to her flat and they wouldn't see each other every day; he wouldn't be able to cook for her, look after her, spend time with her...

_We'll still be friends,_ he told himself, _I'll make sure of it._

Jaime was sure he had at least won her affection from the photoshoot because as they flicked through the photos on Jaime's computer, Brienne gazed at him with shock and admiration. "You are so talented," she gasped as every new picture came on the screen. "How did you make me look like that?"

"The manipulation of light and colour to bring out what is already there," he smiled. "For example, the soft lighting brought out the tone of your skin and your freckles, and by putting you at that angle to the lamp, it made your eyes sparkle."

"I've got too many good ones to choose from now," Brienne smiled, squeezing his shoulder affectionately. When he turned to look at her, she almost immediately moved away, but that only made Jaime miss the warmth of her touch.

"I'm glad you like them."

"I _do_ ," she said emphatically, "and with the great profile Sansa helped me write, and these photos, I'm sure to up my matches and find someone nice before too long."

Jaime smiled at her at that statement, but in truth it did not touch her eyes. Brienne deserved so much better than some idiot she met on the internet; someone good, kind, and who appreciated her for who she was.

It was just a shame she could not see it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed that. Please let me know what you think with a comment or kudos!


	6. Part VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne starts online dating...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I hope you like this chapter; it came from an idea suggested by Bellana, and the candidates for dating suggested by Coque and ulmo80, so please keep prompts coming! I am slowly bringing the story together now, but any ideas/moments you want to see will be really useful!
> 
> Although this chapter is only short, I hope you enjoy.

Once the best photo that Jaime took during their photoshoot was uploaded onto her dating profile on _Fumble,_ Brienne began swiping and engaging in light chit-chat with the men that caught her attention. As she was entirely honest about the whole pregnant surrogate situation, not many really took the bait, but even so, Brienne tried to be hopeful. Wanting to make the best of it, she threw herself in fully with the few that made a connection, attempting to ask them questions about their photos, their hobbies, and who they were as people rather than anything physical. After all, Brienne knew only too well how she hated being reduced just to her body.

_Brienne Tarth:_ Hey Dickon, I love your third photo, the one in the mountains. Where was it taken?

_Dickon Tarly:_ The Mountains of Moon. Uni skiing trip.

_Brienne Tarth:_ Oh, that sounds fun! I've been for a walking holiday in the Dornish mountains before, but never skiing. Did you enjoy it? And would you recommend it for a rookie like me?

_Dickon Tarly:_ Yeah.

_Brienne Tarth:_ Cool cool. What do you study at uni?

_Dickon Tarly:_ Biology. PhD.

_Brienne Tarth:_ Oh, that sounds really interesting. I am doing a Psychology PhD at KLU, so we'd definitely have lots to chat about.

_Dickon Tarly:_ Probably.

At yet another short, clipped answer from Dickon, Brienne decided to wait a little while before replying. She wanted to come up with some more engaging questions in order to really ignite a conversation that could actually go somewhere. Shutting the app, Brienne knew she would have to have a think. Clearly, questions about skiing and studying were not going to cut the mustard.

* * *

The second conversation Brienne found herself in was not so stilted as the first, but she did think it was a little _odd._

_Brienne Tarth:_ Hey Tormund, are you really brewing your own ale in that first photo?

_Tormund Giantsbane:_ How tall are you?

_Brienne Tarth:_ 6"3. Why?

_Tormund Giantsbane:_ That's fucking _tall._

_Brienne Tarth:_ Well spotted.

_Tormund Giantsbane:_ I like tall women. Big women.

_Brienne Tarth:_ Okay.

_Tormund Giantsbane:_ Most men wouldn't appreciate a woman like you, but I would. Do you do weights?

_Brienne Tarth:_ Not really. I tend to spend my days studying. What do you like doing?

_Tormund Giantsbane:_ We should go training at the gym sometime. I wanna know how much you can bench press ;P

Feeling slightly uncomfortable with talking about her own body in such an intensely physical way, Brienne decided to pause her communication with Tormund for a little while so she could work out how to get him onto the topic of his hobbies and interests. It was, after all, important to confirm he wasn't a complete nutter before agreeing to meet him. Again, Brienne decided to re-evaluate her options, and retreated from the virtual world for a time.

* * *

Quite surprisingly, eventually, someone actually messaged her first. Given his mysterious profile photo of a face hidden behind a camera, Brienne was instantly intrigued, especially as his bio said his favourite film was _The Kingslayer and the Wench,_ which was also _her_ favourite. Furthermore, Brienne was pleasantly surprised to find that from the off Lance was polite and attentive in a way Dickon and Tormund had not been.

_Lance Jannister:_ Hey Brienne, I just thought I should let you know; you look really beautiful in your profile picture. It really brings out your eyes and your smile makes you seem really kind and genuine. I bet you are reeling them in on here, so I probably have no chance... but I just wanted to tell you that.

_Brienne Tarth:_ *blushes* thanks. That is very sweet of you, and I assure you that you definitely _do_ have a chance after that lovely introduction! However, I should let you know the way I appear in that photo is mostly my friend Jaime's photography skills rather than me.

_Lance Jannister:_ An artist cannot work without his model. I bet he just manipulated light and colour to bring out what was already there. I do a bit of photography myself, and I can say with absolute certainty that some people do not make good models. You made an excellent one.

_Brienne Tarth:_ That's funny. Jaime said something like that.

_Lance Jannister:_ Is he a good friend of yours? Do you respect his opinion?

_Brienne Tarth:_ Very much. He's one of the best people I know.

_Lance Jannister:_ Well then, I'm going to say that great minds think alike and you should definitely listen to him :) He obviously sees something special in you to be able to take a photo like that.

_Brienne Tarth:_ Nah, Jaime is just good at his job, that's all. There's nothing special between me and him.

...

_Lance Jannister:_ Oh? Why do you think there is nothing special between you and him.

_Brienne Tarth:_ Many long and complicated reasons. Anyway, I'm not on here to talk about Jaime, I am here to meet interesting people and, I have to say, you seem the most interesting I've chatted to yet!

_Lance Jannister:_ Really?

_Brienne Tarth:_ Yeah! So, I was just wondering whether you wanted to take this off app and meet up for drinks sometime this week? I'm flexible.

Then, to her utter surprise, without giving her an answer, Lance deleted his profile and totally disappeared from _Fumble_ never to be heard from again.

_Ghosted,_ she thought sadly.

That he had disappeared left Brienne with a knot in her stomach for two reasons; firstly, because Lance had seemed very promising and like someone she would actually enjoy getting to know, and secondly because she feared her forwardness had made him run away. Therefore, after losing him, Brienne made a vow to herself that, once she had come up with her comebacks for Dickon and Tormund, she would take it slower with them. She did not want to ruin the few slivers of hope she had...

Not like she had done with Lance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading. Please let me know what you think with a comment or kudos!


	7. Part VII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime reflects on the "Lance Jannister" plan...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for coming back! This chapter tries to amalgamate suggestions from SomberSecrets (who wanted to see Jaime giving Brienne dating advice) and Anonymous on tumblr who wanted to hear more about what Cersei was up to. I hope you enjoy!

Even as he was setting up the profile, Jaime _knew_ the Lance Jannister plan was stupid, yet he still felt compelled to do it. Whilst taking Brienne's photos, he had been met with an uneasy sense that she felt she was ugly and that, in spite of his talents, she believed she would always be less than when lit up by the flash of a camera. Consequently, Jaime was dead set on proving her wrong. 

Once Lance was created, it took a little bit of swiping on _Fumble_ before he found Brienne, and when he did Jaime was armed with compliments and sweet words. He had hoped that she would get a little bit of confidence from him, because he hated how self-deprecating she always was, and wanted her to feel better. A smaller part of him also desired to have some insight into how many men she was talking to; as she was his platonic soulmate, of course, it only felt right he keep a check on her. Once he had succeeded in giving Brienne a little boost and had the information he wanted, Jaime had then planned to slowly stop the messages until Lance Jannister disappeared completely. It would be done so subtly that Brienne would barely notice he was gone.

However, it had all gone tits up right out of the stable doors as Brienne had ended up asking him out and then he had no choice but to ghost her. After all, it wasn't as if she and Lance could meet face to face. Jaime had been worried that Brienne would find the rejection soul-crushing, that all his sweet words would be obliterated by the fact that Lance had ended it with such a dick-move, but as she did not say anything about it, he had the luxury of thinking she was coping with it alright.

In fact, Jaime thought everything was going just _fine_ until a few days later when Brienne emerged from her room wearing a nice sky blue top, some weirdly trendy jeans, and a pair of gold hoop earrings, with a little make-up on her face. Jaime leapt to his feet the second he saw her.

"You look nice," he said, running his hand through his hair. His throat felt strangely dry.

At his unsolicited compliment, Brienne narrowed her eyes at him. "Always the tone of surprise," she said tartly, before heading in the direction of the front door.

"You know I don't mean it like that," he interjected quickly, wanting to smooth over his own blunders as well as Lance Jannister's. It seemed to work, as Brienne slowed down. "It's just... are you going out somewhere?"

At his question, she went the pink colour that made her supremely photogenic. "Yes... yes I am."

"Where?"

Brienne took a deep breath. "I've got an online date. We're going out for dinner at _Hot Pie's_ so... don't worry about making dinner for me."

_Oh,_ thought Jaime, his brain not supplying him with any more elegant words for the rush of feeling that suddenly overcame him.

"What's his name?" he asked, not quite meeting her eye.

"Dickon," she replied, which only caused Jaime to splutter with laughter.

"Oh, come on Brienne, surely you can find someone better than a guy called _Dickon."_

If she was already pink, she went even redder at that comment. "Not really, no. He seems nice. He likes the mountains and... skiing. We have lots in common."

"Do you?" asked Jaime, his tone verging on the mocking. "Because I have yet to see you profess a love for mountains or skiing, wench."

Knowing he was right, Brienne eventually said, "well, sometimes you just get a feeling with people like... like... like it could all work out if you only try."

Feeling compelled to tease her, Jaime asked, "do you honestly think your soulmate is a skier called Dickon?"

As Brienne dropped her eyes from him and stared at the floor, Jaime felt a rush of triumph. _Of course not,_ he thought, smiling internally, _because your soulmate is me, wench. You are mine. Not his._ Enjoying the way she was squirming, Jaime was not quite prepared to look up at him, her blue eyes wide, with something determined hidden behind them.

"I don't know," she said quietly, "but even if he's not, I've got to try. I will not spend the whole of my life hanging around for my soulmate waiting for him to notice I exist."

After the strength of Brienne's statement, the words ran out between them, leaving her staring at him with those blue eyes of hers and him floundering. It was quite strange that her gaze always made him feel as if he had laser beams trained on his forehead. Drowning in an unanticipated silence, Jaime eventually concurred with her, but only in order to break the tension. "That sounds a sensible plan."

"And that's why I'm going," Brienne replied, the corners of her mouth turning up in something that looked like a weary smile. "To be _sensible_ because, who knows, Dickon might be good for me. Don't wait up for me... I don't know how long I'll be."

Without another word Brienne left, leaving him staring at the door wondering why on earth her felt so strange.

* * *

In the evenings, Jaime was so used to having Brienne's company that he felt weirdly lonely without it. Normally, they would make dinner together before watching some rubbish on the TV. Sometimes, they would not listen to whatever they should be paying attention to, but instead swap stories about their childhoods, their jobs, and their lives. Other times, they would sit in silence, him massaging her feet. Yet, in all the time Jaime had known her, the silences he had shared with Brienne were never as stifling as the quiet that now pervaded his apartment in her absence. Yes, he could make dinner hotter than she liked it and watch whatever he wanted on TV, but strangely, the billionaire's son found he missed his too tall Baby Mama and did not quite know what to do with himself.

_Jaime:_ Wench, I hope you are having a good time. I'm missing you here. There's just been a question on Westerosi Challenge about Psychologists you would have known the answer too. Come home soon.

He tried to do things to take his mind off it - cooking a complicated curry recipe, watching an action movie she would not like, having a bath - but he could only wonder whether Brienne was enjoying herself with Dickon the skier. Jaime did not think so, somehow.

_She's not into skiing,_ he thought, _and is much more of a thinker than Dickon the Dumbass sounds. Brienne won't like some brainless jock; she's sensitive, she'll need someone who is gentle with her and listens, not someone who will go on and on and on about mountains all day._

_And anyway, this whole dating thing a pointless waste of time on her part, because I am her soulmate, so she won't see anything in him or anyone else._

Feeling a little grumpy that Brienne had abandoned him for an idiot called Dickon, Jaime decided to take his mind off things by calling Cersei. They had not talked in a few days, so he decided to try his luck, thinking that hearing from her would take his mind off things.

_Brienne and I are only platonic soulmates after all,_ he thought, _it's Cersei and me that are the real deal._

Jaime tried ringing her mobile first, but when he did not get an answer on the third turn, he went for phone in her trailer. There was always the possibility they were doing night shoots again, after all. While Jaime waited patiently, the dialling tone rang several times. He was just about to give up, when someone finally answered.

"Hey, who is this?" came an unfamiliar male voice.

"Jaime, Cersei's boyfriend," he responded quickly, tersely clearing his throat. "Who is this?"

"Osney."

"And who are you, Osney?" asked Jaime, a little irritated at the lack of information he was getting. At his tone, a few moments of nervous hesitation passed in which Jaime swore he could hear distant whispering. "Is Cersei there? I would like to speak to her."

"No," replied Osney, teasing out his words slowly, "she's... erm... filming."

That answer just annoyed Jaime further, so he flung out an accusatory question. "Then what the fuck are you doing in her trailer?"

There was another pause, before Osney said, "feeding the kitty."

Following that cryptic statement, there definitely was an explosion of laughter that was undoubtedly coming from Jaime's girlfriend. "I know Cersei's in there," he said, only keeping his temper in line because he did not want to lose it on the phone with Cersei when he only got to talk to her so rarely. "I want to speak to her. Now."

There were a few seconds of fumbling before the phone ended up in Cersei's hands, and she launched herself on it with her best little-girl-lost voice. "Hey, sweetheart, how are you doing?"

"Fine," he replied. Now he was actually on the phone with her, he wasn't quite sure what to say other than exorcising his jealousies. "Who is Osney?"

"Osney Kettleblack?" Cersei inquired, as if there was more than one Osney she knew, "oh... he's just one of the stuntmen."

"Why is he in your trailer feeding a kitty?"

That caused Cersei to let out another snicker. "Oh, it's just a euphemism. I... err... needed one of the lightbulbs fixed on my mirror and Osney volunteered to... err... help me out."

"Right," said Jaime slowly, his mood souring as he could hear Osney laughing in the background, "well, has he finished?"

"Yes... although it lasted quite a long time."

More laughing.

Furrowing his brow, Jaime said, "well, can you get rid of him now? I want to talk to you."

"No can do," Cersei replied quickly, "we're just having a drink together before I have to go and shoot another scene."

Jaime sighed. Sometimes, it felt like Cersei barely had a minute for him, and he had to battle for every second of her affection. "Cers, I just want to have a moment of your time. It seems you are never free to chat in the evenings; you're always socialising."

He could almost hear her shrug. "It's not illegal to socialise. And anyway, you hang out with people in the evenings too; Bronn, Tyrion, Addam... and... you know... what's her name... the one that's doing you a favour."

Even though Cersei was talking as if Jaime should be able to read her mind, he really had no clue. "Who are you talking about Cers?"

"You know..." she said liltingly as if it were obvious, "that blonde giantess. The one you paid the money to in order to... err... do something."

The hairs on the back of Jaime's neck prickled uneasily at that statement. "If you are talking about Brienne, she's doing both of us a favour, a _massive_ favour. She's carrying our baby..."

"Oh sorry," Cersei interjected suddenly. "I've just been called for shooting. We will chat later. Ciao."

And without any words of affection, or even anymore warning, Cersei hung up, leaving Jaime to listen to the obnoxious dialling tone, ringing in his ear like an irritating alarm.

_I love Cersei,_ he thought, just to remind himself. _I love Cersei._

_And she loves me._

* * *

If the situation with Brienne and Dickon the skier had put him on edge, Cersei's curt replies on the phone had sent Jaime into a bit of a tailspin. Wanting to alleviate the tension and relax, he had gone into his room and watched some porn on his laptop. It took him a little while to find something he liked, but eventually he discovered quite a romantic scene with a woman with long legs and blue eyes, who wrapped herself round her partner and told him what to do, before kissing him at the end. As Jaime finished in his fist, it meant he had to go and have another shower, but at least he felt in a slightly better mood.

When he was dressed, Jaime went out into the lounge, only to find that Brienne had obviously returned home while he was showering. Instantly, he could tell she was a little off, so he came and sat down beside her.

"How did the date go?" Jaime asked gently, feeling bad that her obvious disappointment made him happy.

"Alright," she replied, leaning back into the chair, "it's just... I don't get men."

Jaime furrowed his brow; he thought men where generally easy to read. Going by the experience of living as a man for thirty-three years, Jaime thought that most of the time, if he was in a bad mood it could be put down to being hungry or horny. Therefore, he thought the male species were no great mystery.

_Women on the other hand..._

"What don't you get about men?" Jaime asked, inching a little closer to her. When she looked up, her eyes were searching.

"Well, Dickon seemed a nice guy but a little... distracted. He was always on his phone and he didn't really have anything to say to me. I don't want to waste time with this whole dating thing so, if I knew how to catch a man's attention, I would probably do much better and end the whole ordeal much quicker."

"Probably," replied Jaime casually, thinking that giving her advice on this front would make him feel a little sick. Brienne seemed to have no such qualms in asking, though.

"You're a man."

"Thanks for noticing, wench," he smirked.

She gave him a disapproving shake of the head. "We're being serious here."

"Oh, are we?" he smiled cheekily, enjoying that it riled her somewhat, "go ahead. I'm listening."

"You're a man," Brienne tried again, fixing him with a glare to stop him interrupting at the caesura, "if you were going internet dating, what would you look for in a woman?"

Under her watchful blue-eyed stare, Jaime relaxed for a moment, thinking. He knew he should tell her what he really looked for - kindness, compassion, a good sense of humour - but the part of him that thought her online dating escapades were all a pointless waste of time took over. Without even giving it a second thought, Jaime began to give Brienne bad advice, because the alternative was to actually let her go out on dates and charm real life men.

_And none of them will be good enough for her,_ he thought, _so I am just doing her a favour._

"Men like women who are stuck up," declared Jaime, just as Brienne put one hand on her belly and started rubbing it in smooth circles. The sight distracted him for a moment.

"Do they?" Brienne asked, incredulous.

"Yep," Jaime replied, popping the 'p'. "We go wild for the absolute bitches; terrible ice queens who stomp all over our hearts and don't give a shit. Play the bitch, and any man you meet will be putty in your hands."

Brienne mulled on Jaime's revelation for a moment before, quite suddenly, her eyes went very wide and she pulled a face that suggested she had just had a lightbulb moment. "Oh," she said, a smile growing on her face, "is that why you fell in love with Cersei?"

Jaime blinked at her. "What?

"Is that why you fell in love with Cersei? Because she is a complete bitch?"

Feeling like that meme with all the mathematical formulas floating in front of his eyes, Jaime furrowed his brow. "I... I... I..." However, eventually, he just stopped attempting to speak, as it rapidly dawned on him that he did not have a satisfactory answer to that question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I would love to hear what you think in the form of comments or kudos <3


	8. Part VIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne and Sansa have a girly night in...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for coming back! I am bowled over by the reception to this tremendously silly story; I am glad you are enjoying it! If there is anything scenes/scenarios you would like to see in future chapters, please poke me in the comments or send a message to my ask box on tumblr (@SeeThemFlying). As this started as a tumblr prompt, I am not planning this one out so rigidly as I normally do, so I am open to suggestions!

"Right..." said Sansa slowly, before taking a sip of her red wine as was obligatory on a girly night in, "can you explain that once more to me, just so I've got it straight?"

Brienne took a deep breath, trying to get the story clear in her mind. "So, I went on a date with Dickon Tarly and he was... _nice,_ in a sort of pretty to look at but not much else kind of way. I wanted to get to know him a bit, so I tried to engage him with all sorts of topics - skiing, mountains, nature - but he just seemed uninterested."

Sansa shrugged. "You win some, you lose some I suppose. You can't be compatible with everyone."

"Yeah I know," replied Brienne, leaning back into the sofa. "It's just..."

"What?"

Brienne bit her lip; she knew Sansa would disapprove of what she was about to say, but she felt she at least had to air it. "What if nobody is compatible with _me?"_

While Brienne had not quite worked out what Sansa's reaction to that statement would be, she had not expected that her best friend would throw her head back and laugh heartily. "Oh, Brienne... you are funny."

Brienne looked at Sansa as if she had gone mad. "I'm not funny, I'm _concerned_. My experience thus far suggests that there is no one out there who will fit with me. I'm not getting any younger and I'm big and ugly after all, so no one will take the time to get to know me, unless it is truly by accident..."

As Brienne's mood sank lower and lower, Sansa stopped laughing and gave her friend a firm look. "No one will want to get to know you with that attitude and, anyway, we both know that finding someone compatible is not going to be a problem for _you_."

"No?" asked Brienne, genuinely perplexed, "why do you say that?"

Sansa rolled her eyes, as if the answer were obvious. "Because the bloody sword you've got on your big toe has its twin on Jaime Lannister's arm. You told me yourself! If anyone is going to be compatible with you, it's _him_!"

Although that was a sweet dream, it made Brienne shake her head sadly. No matter how much it sometimes seemed like she and Jaime would be perfect for each other, there were practical things that got in the way; his girlfriend, the baby she was brewing that was his but not hers, and the fact that he was _Jaime fucking Lannister_ and she was nobody. "It's not Jaime," said Brienne, trying to keep the disappointment at bay. "Even if he wasn't with Cersei Marbrand, the most beautiful woman in the world, I couldn't be compatible with him, because I wouldn't be the type of woman he would fall in love with."

"Why not? Because of your looks? If that is what you are trying to argue, you are talking crap. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and, anyway, love is more than just a pretty face."

Brienne thought back to the conversation she had with Jaime the day before, about what men found attractive in women. "Yeah," said Brienne, conceding to Sansa's point a little reluctantly, even though she thought the _looks don't matter_ argument was easy to make by a beautiful person like Sansa, "but I'm not a bitch."

At that statement, Sansa really did look lost, so she took another sip of her wine. "Correct me if I'm wrong," the redhead said, "but isn't that a good thing?"

"No," replied Brienne, her tone disappointed. "Jaime told me that men fall in love with complete bitches, so I asked him if that was why he fell in love with Cersei, and he just shrugged his shoulders and said _well I suppose she can be a right cow sometimes, yeah._ So you see... I would never be the type of person Jaime would look at in a romantic light because, not only am I not very pretty, but I also like to think I am a good person. Men love bitches, so, as Jaime is a man, that means _he_ loves bitches... hence he loves Cersei. Do you see the problem?"

Sansa just blinked a couple of times before speaking. "Erm... I think I'm going to need to meet Jaime Lannister at some point Brienne because, from everything you've told me, he's completely baffling."

That elicited a little laugh from Brienne. "Well... I suppose he is. Do you know he is so rich he didn't realise that some people don't have butlers growing up? And although he's a really good cook himself, he didn't even boil an egg until he was twenty-two because he always had someone else to do it for him? He also has this totally stupid theory that dogs can't look up and..."

"Oh yes," interrupted Sansa with a laugh, before beginning an ode to sarcasm. "You two are _totally_ incompatible going by the way you are gushing about him. It's actually quite hilarious how into him you are. It's like fate's pulling the two of you together or something."

Brienne blushed in spite of herself; Sansa's jokes were cutting a little too close to the bone. "Screw fate; I've decided to not be _into_ him. I think it is perfectly plausible that we could be platonic soulmates; we make good friends after all, and I..."

" _Or_ ," suggested Sansa, raising her eyebrows, "you could be a shameless flirt and eventually convince him to park his purple Porsche in your parking space."

That statement made Brienne feel a little queasy, "Sansa, that's the worse euphemism I've ever heard."

"Yeah, it might be," grinned Brienne's best friend, pleased at her joke, "but my point still stands. You could win him over... _slowly_."

Getting a little exasperated that Sansa was continuing on this point like a dog with a bone, Brienne said, "as I said, we have the aforementioned bitch problem."

Sansa shrugged nonchalantly. "Maybe Jaime just doesn't know what he wants? Maybe deep down he desires a lovely sensitive person like you to nurture his emotional needs, but just can't see it now?"

"Come on, he's a grown man," scoffed Brienne, blindsided by Sansa's hope, "how can Jaime Lannister of all people not know what he wants?"

"Erm," began Sansa sarcastically, "you are the one doing the PhD in Psychology, not me. Surely there are loads of ways that people can miss what they really want, or even hide it from themselves."

Brienne nodded her head, "yeah, it's called cognitive dissonance, or the state of having inconsistent thoughts, beliefs, or attitudes, especially as relating to behavioural decisions and attitude change."

"Thank you, Ms Dictionary," smiled Sansa, before taking another sip of wine. "You've proved my point; as you can see, there are _many_ ways in which Jaime can be unaware of what he really wants."

"No, I think he knows. He says all men want a bitch and he's going out with a bitch, fulfilling said prophecy," replied Brienne, confident but a little sad. When Sansa just rolled her eyes once more, the extent of Jaime's theory on what men want hit Brienne like a tsunami, and she felt compelled to ask a question. "Do you think that's what all men really want, though, a bitch?"

Sansa thought about it for a moment. "I don't know. Do you think Dickon Tarly wanted a bitch?"

"No idea," answered Brienne honestly, "we didn't talk much."

"Well, maybe you should test Jaime's theory out on the next date you go on?" suggested Sansa. "You have got someone lined up, haven't you?"

Brienne nodded. "Yeah," she said, a little disinterested in the topic, "but it is only Tormund. I want to talk to him a bit more before actually going on a date with him and try Jaime's theory out, because he comes across as a little... _intense_ at times."

"Fair enough," nodded Sansa, "you've got to be sure about these things, I suppose."

"Yes," agreed Brienne, happy at the opportunity to change the subject from the bearded hipster who always fetishised how big she was. "It's not just that I am unsure about Tormund; also, my diary is quite busy the next couple of weeks. Next Thursday, I have my four month scan and Jaime is coming with me."

"It's with my mum, isn't it?" asked Sansa, even though she knew the answer.

"Yeah. Jaime wanted to try out another doctor after Doctor Qyburn got a bit too handsy last time."

"Urgh," groaned Sansa, who knew full well what some men could be like. It was the price of being pretty, Brienne supposed. "At least Jaime and I agree on one thing; handsy doctors are gross"

"Yes," smiled Brienne, seeing something similar in her best friend and her Baby Daddy, "it's nice to know that when you finally meet him, you will have that in common at least."

At Brienne's statement, Sansa's smile grew, as if she were eyeing up a particularly tasty steak. "You mean you are actually happy for me to meet Jaime?"

"Of course," replied Brienne, sounding more confident than she felt, "as long... as long as he's happy to meet _you_ , which I'm sure he will be."

"Oh, yes, he'll be ecstatic, because I'm a lovely person!" concurred Sansa with a laugh. "And I will be buzzing to meet him! It is only right that I meet your future husband before I start planning my bridesmaid outfit."

That was going a little too far. "He's not my future husband," groused Brienne, even as the image of Jaime in a nice suit standing by an altar came rushing into her mind.

"Alright," said Sansa, chuckling, giving Brienne a little nudge in the ribs. "What can I call him then? Brienne's Baby Daddy? Billionaire Buffoon? Brienne's soulmate."

"Just call him Jaime," demanded Brienne, folding her arms across her chest, annoyed that Sansa seemed dead set on teasing her. As if to prove a point, at Brienne's slight grumpiness, Sansa laughed and poured herself another glass of wine, oblivious to the complex cloud of thoughts whirling around her best friend's mind.

_Call him Jaime,_ thought Brienne, _because that is the only word that does him justice._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I would love to hear from you in the form of comments or kudos, so please consider leaving them!


	9. Part IX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne go for a scan...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for coming back! This chapter came from a prompt by theladypaimon on tumblr asking for Brienne and Jaime to go for a scan with Catelyn as a very disapproving doctor. I hope you enjoy!

As Jaime drove Brienne to Doctor Stark's clinic at the foot of Visenya's Hill, he found it quite difficult to keep his eyes on the road. The reason was because Brienne was wearing a really cool leather jacket over a white t-shirt, which made her look really awesome and strangely maternal as she kept rubbing her hand in small protective circles over her little baby bump. Jaime did not quite know why, but the sight did things to his bitter old heart.

_It's only because Cersei isn't here,_ he told himself, _if Cersei was carrying my baby, I would be even more excited. I would..._

He did not really want to think of Cersei. Ever since he had phoned her trailer and been confronted with the mocking voice of Osney Kettleblack, Jaime had found himself drowning in a sense of unease when thinking of his girlfriend. He had looked up the euphemism about cats that Osney had used, only to discover it referred to sex, which had sent a spike of terror straight through his heart.

_It was a joke,_ he told himself over and over. _A joke. Cersei loves me. She's having a baby with me. She wants a family with me._

_Me. Me. Me. Not Osney. Not Robert. Me._

"Are you alright?" came Brienne's voice suddenly, concern in her lovely blue eyes. Feeling as if she was looking right into him, Jaime turned back to the road, suddenly not wanting to think of either Cersei _or_ Brienne. They both had the incredible ability to give him a headache.

"I'm fine," he said quickly, "why do you say that?"

As he was so intent on staring at the boot of the car in front of him, Jaime missed her hand moving towards him, so he nearly jumped out of his skin when she pressed the back of her fingers to his forehead. "You just look a little pale, that's all."

When she refused to take her hand off him, Jaime began to stammer. "I... I... I'm fine. I just haven't been sleeping the last few days, that's all."

At that, she finally, _finally_ withdrew, allowing Jaime to get control of himself once more. He wondered what it was about his bestie that made him so nervous, especially when she locked him with those expressive blue eyes of hers. "Oh," she said, with genuine feeling in her tone, "why do you think you haven't been sleeping?"

Jaime shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "It's... err... just..."

_No,_ he thought, _I won't tell her my fears about Cersei. That's something from my romantic life. Brienne is not part of that._

"I'm just worried about the appointment, that's all," Jaime said, giving Brienne a little smile, "we've never been to see Doctor Stark before. How will the change from Doctor Qyburn affect you? And what about the baby?"

"I'll be fine," Brienne reassured him, lifting a hand and putting it on his shoulder, squeezing gently, "and so will the baby. We're both made of stern stuff."

Jaime turned to look at her, smiling gently. "I'm glad," he said, knowing she was telling nothing but the truth. "So glad."

As he watched her, Jaime could not help but notice the blush that was slowly overcoming Brienne's cheeks and the slight twinkle in her blue eyes. He wondered what had caused it. In fact, the mystery intrigued him so much that he did not notice the lights had suddenly changed, causing the car in front of him to skid to an abrupt halt.

"Jaime! Watch out!"

Ripping his eyes away from her, Jaime slammed his foot down on the breaks, managing to bring the car to a stop just before it crashed into the bumper of the _Panther_ in front. At the force of the braking, both driver and passenger were flung forward, meaning both he and Brienne were suddenly very thankful for their seatbelts. Once the momentum of the moving car had dissipated, Jaime leant back in his seat before quickly turning to Brienne to check she was alright. She looked a little shocked, and it sent Jaime into a tailspin of guilt. Not even thinking straight, he reached out to her, putting one hand on her cheek and another on her belly, wanting to make sure that both of them were okay. His girls. The second he touched her; Brienne gasped.

"Are you alright?" he asked, panicked, his thumb skirting along her cheekbone as his other hand cupped her belly, stroking her gently.

Brienne swallowed loudly, her eyes on him. "I... I... I am fine, Jaime... don't worry..."

"And our baby?"

The second he said it, Brienne's bright eyes dimmed, and she immediately brushed his concerned hands away. "Yours and Cersei's baby is fine too. Don't panic."

For some reason, when she turned to look out the window, Jaime's heart fell. He didn't like feeling distant from her, unable to tell what was wrong, and he could immediately sense that she was building a wall between them.

* * *

The strange atmosphere continued between them until they got inside Doctor Stark's office. It was a light, airy space with flowers on the windowsill and large windows that let in streaming sunlight. On top of that, Jaime thought it was a calm room, yet Brienne seemed anything but calm because as they went and sat down by Doctor Stark's desk, as she still would not look at him. Jaime wondered what he had done to upset her.

"Hello Brienne," smiled Doctor Stark, the second Brienne had settled into her chair, "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Why not?" asked Brienne, her voice strangely light. Doctor Stark's expression became a little concerned at her change in tone.

"I just thought you would be concentrating on finishing your PhD at the moment... not starting a family."

Brienne's countenance darkened. "I'm not starting a family. It's not mine. "

Doctor Stark looked surprised, her eyebrows rising. "Oh, of course," she said, nodding along as if she was fully aware of what was going on, before reaching for Brienne's medical notes which had been sent through from King's Landing Hospital by Doctor Qyburn. After a few moments of flicking, she turned back to her patients, evidently deciding the best course of action was to get the whole story from them. "So, Brienne, why don't you introduce your young man to me?"

At that statement, Brienne started coughing very loudly, which only seemed to get worse when Jaime put his hand on her back and started rubbing coaxingly. Noticing her predicament, Doctor Stark helpfully poured Brienne some water from a jug she kept in her office, but Jaime's Baby Mama only fully recovered herself when he removed his hand and passed her the glass.

After taking a few sips of water, Brienne finally managed to try to answer Doctor Stark's question. "Catelyn, this is Jaime. He's... erm... he's..."

"Yes?"

Jaime tried to help her. "I'm her Baby Daddy."

Catelyn Stark's eyes went wide. "Sansa did not tell me you had a boyfriend, Brienne."

Then it was Jaime's turn to start violently coughing, as Brienne poured him a glass of water. When he recovered himself, he managed to splutter, "I'm not Brienne's _boyfriend._ I have a girlfriend, and she's not Brienne!"

For some reason, Brienne then slammed her own class of water down quite aggressively on the desk and folded her arms. At that action, Catelyn Stark's eyes flitted to her briefly, before turning back to Jaime, gazing at him with curiosity. "So you just got Brienne pregnant, went back to your girlfriend, and then left Brienne to fend for herself?"

"No!" squawked Jaime, horrified that his reputation was tarnished because people didn't know the whole picture, "that's not what happened at all!"

"What did happen, then?" asked Catelyn, looking a little disapproving.

In desperation, Jaime turned to Brienne, wanting a bit of support. Noting that he was uncomfortable, Brienne let out a long sigh, and then attempted to explain in the simplest way she could. "Jaime's not my boyfriend... he doesn't want me in that way... we've never even... _done it,_ " said Brienne firmly, her cheeks very, very red. "Jaime is just my... erm... man... man-person."

"Your man-person?" asked Catelyn sceptically.

Then it was Jaime's turn to fill in the gaps. "What Brienne means to say is that... Brienne is the surrogate mother of mine and my girlfriend's baby. What she is doing for me is a wonderful thing, but that doesn't mean we're... close or anything. I'm just her..."

"Man-person?" supplied Catelyn, the corners of her mouth turning upwards in the echo of a smile.

"I prefer the term Baby Daddy, don't I, wench?" declared Jaime, before trying to console Brienne by squeezing her knee affectionately, to which she almost jumped out of her seat. By the time she retook her place, Brienne was looking at anything other than Jaime - the clock, the wall, the ultrasound - which made Jaime feel a little uneasy. Surprised by her reaction, Jaime turned back to Catelyn, who appeared as if she had just discovered something momentous.

" _Oh,_ " she said pointedly, her gaze moving between Jaime and Brienne quite rapidly.

"What?" asked Jaime, confused, even as Catelyn ignored him.

"Brienne," Catelyn said, kindly but firmly, addressing her in such a way that made it clear that Jaime was not part of this conversation. Her tone encouraged Brienne to raise her eyes from the floor and look at her. "Do you want me to ask Jaime to leave?"

Jaime's heart fell, "no! I don't want to leave! I've got to be here for Brienne."

"Brienne," said Catelyn again, totally ignoring Jaime, as if he were just some annoying fly buzzing around the room, "if his presence is making you uncomfortable in anyway... even if it is not in an _uncomfortable_ uncomfortable way, I can ask him to leave. Your needs come first."

Spinning around to look at Brienne, Jaime was surprised to discover she had gone bright red. _Do I make her uncomfortable?_ he thought, panicked. _We're friends. I've tried to do right by her, because she's giving me this amazing gift..._ However, Brienne saved his bacon once again.

"It's fine, Catelyn," she mumbled, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the doctor and not on him. "Jaime doesn't make me uncomfortable and... this is _his_ baby. He needs to be here. So can we get on with the scan? Pretty Please?"

* * *

Jaime had been a little worried about the scan for days, because he knew the four month mark was a big deal, but he had not been anticipating this level of awkwardness. Catelyn treated him with a great deal of suspicion, and Brienne just wouldn't look at him, which, he had to admit, hurt. As Catelyn smoothed the gel on Brienne's belly, Jaime reached out and took Brienne's hand, wanting her to know that he was here for her. The second their fingers intertwined, Brienne looked at him, her eyes wide.

"Jaime, I..."

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable," he said gently, drawing close so he could speak just to her, as Catelyn began fiddling around with the scan equipment. Something, perhaps the gel, made Brienne blush. "You know I'm here for you, right?"

"I do," she replied, her freckles almost obscured by the redness in her cheeks, "it's just..."

"I'm sorry if the gel is a little cold," interrupted Catelyn, before slipping the instrument onto Brienne's stomach, "but I can assure you that you will get used to it in a few moments."

As Brienne sucked in a gasp of air as the instrument touched her skin, Jaime was looking at her rather than at the screen when, quite suddenly, the ultrasound flickered into life and there was their baby.

"Oh, wow," murmured Jaime, squeezing Brienne's hand tightly as he stared at the screen. It all seemed too perfect to be true. "There's our baby, wench."

" _Your_ baby," said Catelyn levelly, a hint of something else in her tone as she began moving the instrument around so they could get the best look possible at the baby, "yours and your mysterious girlfriend's baby. Where is she, by the way? I would have thought she would be interested in how her baby is coming along."

Under Catelyn's judgemental gaze, Jaime tried to find some excuse for Cersei that would sound reasonable, but Brienne beat him too it. "She's in Dorne, filming for a new TV show."

_With Osney Kettleblack and Robert Baratheon,_ thought Jaime, shaking his head in order to bat away those fears. _Cersei loves me, and I am now here with Brienne, she is what is important._

"Mmm," said Catelyn a little sceptically, before turning her attention back to the ultrasound. "Now we are at the four month mark, the baby is currently around the same size as a turnip..."

"That's a good nickname, don't you think, wench?" smiled Jaime, trying to lift Brienne out of this strange mood she was in. "We should call him turnip from now on."

"If you want," she replied, still not meeting his eye.

_What have I done?_ he wondered, watching her with great interest. _What have I done to upset her?_

"And around this time," continued Catelyn, seemingly unaware of Jaime's discomfort, "you might start experiencing the baby kicking, Brienne, so watch out for that."

Jaime tried again. "Isn't that exciting? I might even be able to feel it if I put my hand on your belly."

Even as Brienne snapped around to look at him, her eyes wide, Catelyn started talking very loudly as if she were trying to project over some loud music. Jaime had no idea what was going on. "This is also the moment that I can tell you that the baby is in the right position for me to tell you the baby's sex, if you want to know."

Jaime and Brienne both answered at the exact same time.

"Yes," said Jaime.

"No," said Brienne.

Her answer induced a great swooping in Jaime's belly, and he turned to look at her, his brows furrowed. "Wench, why don't you want to know the sex of our baby?"

" _Your_ baby," she replied, echoing Catelyn's sentiment from earlier. Strangely, the way she rejected the reality of the fact that she was carrying his child launched an unexpected ache in his chest. "I'm just the surrogate."

"You are more than that," he replied, squeezing her hand again, wanting her to know how thankful he was. "So much more."

To his surprise, that ardently felt truth did not seem to comfort Brienne in the slightest, as she shook her hand free of his. "But I'm not, am I? At the end of all this, I will hand the baby over to you and Cersei and go on my merry way."

Jaime froze. It was true, he knew, but neither of them had ever put it so bluntly before. Wanting to comfort her but not really knowing how, Jaime drew a little closer and smiled at her. "Yes, I suppose, but you can come and see me and the baby all the time."

Brienne snorted. "As if Cersei would permit that!"

"There would be no _permitting_ about it," insisted Jaime, "you will come and see me and the baby all the time. That it is going to happen is not even up for debate."

For the first time that day, Brienne looked at him with something approaching disappointment. "It doesn't make any difference though, does it? The baby is not mine. You are the father, Cersei is the mother, and I am just the holding container."

Jaime hated hearing her speak about herself like that; Brienne had been more a part of this whole process than Cersei had ever been, and he needed her to know that. "You are not the _holding container._ You are my baby's surrogate mother."

"And that is exactly why I do not wish to find out the sex," said Brienne quickly, "because I am _not_ its mother, I am just the _surrogate._ I don't want to get too attached; I want to be able to draw that line, so it's not so hard later."

Jaime saw no need for Brienne to be drawing any lines that would separate her either from the baby or from him, so he went to object. "But wench..."

"I think I see a way around this problem," interjected Catelyn smoothly, "we often have situations where one parent wishes to know the sex of the baby and the other doesn't, so why doesn't Jaime hang back for a few moments with me and I will tell him then? Yes?"

Although Jaime was not entirely happy with that plan - he wanted to share that moment with Brienne - as his wench began nodding firmly, he could only agree. "Yes. I suppose that is a good idea."

"Excellent," smiled Catelyn as she gazed knowingly at the pair of them, "well then, I will get you some scan photos printed, and then we can talk about appropriate prenatal and Lamaze classes..."

As Catelyn began wiping the gel off Brienne belly, packing away the instruments, and telling them about the next stage in the pregnancy plan, Jaime found himself zoning out, instead becoming totally preoccupied with his Baby Mama. He knew that Brienne was sensitive, but he had had no idea that she was already thinking about how to psychologically prepare for the reality of giving birth to a baby she would then have to hand to another woman.

_I need to help her with that,_ he thought. _I'm her platonic soulmate. If anyone can help her through that, it's me._

"... you have helped her with that, haven't you Jaime?" came Catelyn's voice quite suddenly. Jaime was forced to leap rather quickly back into the room, wondering whether she was talking about him being Brienne's psychological rock.

"With what, sorry?"

"Maternity clothes," said Catelyn, clearly disapproving of the fact he hadn't been listening. "Brienne won't get away with wearing her normal clothes for too much longer."

Jaime sighed, giving Brienne an affectionate look, "I know. I gave her some money, but she hasn't actually bought anything with it yet."

"Too much money," Brienne grumbled as she rolled down her t-shirt. "I'm not a designer girl; I didn't know what to do with all those dragons!"

An idea came to Jaime's mind that made him so excited he thought he might burst. "Oh! We could go shopping together, wench! I could help you pick out stuff that suits! I have an eye for all that!"

Once again, Brienne suddenly looked sheepish and blushed beautifully. "I don't know," she mumbled, "I don't really need new clothes."

"You _do_ need new clothes, Brienne," insisted Catelyn, "but you don't have to go shopping with Jaime if it makes you uncomfortable."

There was that word again, _uncomfortable._ Jaime did not understand it; _he_ didn't feel uncomfortable with Brienne. In fact, the time they spent together felt fun and right and _good._ Not knowing what he had done to make this horrible word suddenly barge its way into their relationship, Jaime tried to make things better, "why don't you, me, and Sansa go shopping together? You said Sansa wants to meet me."

"She does," agreed Brienne, a little warily, "but I think she expected it to be over coffee or something..."

"What does it matter?" shrugged Jaime, "this way I can meet your best friend while doing something productive. What do you think?"

For a few uneasy seconds, Brienne wrung her hands nervously, clearly weighing up her options. "Alright," she said eventually, "I'll have a chat with Sansa and find a time the three of us can go shopping together."

"Great!" smiled Jaime, squeezing her shoulder happily, "I'll buy you everything you need!"

As a continuation of her behaviour thus far, Brienne stiffed under his hand, before turning to Doctor Stark. "Catelyn, thanks for today," she said as she batted Jaime away, "shall I go and talk to the receptionist about the reading materials for the Lamaze and prenatal classes while you tell Jaime the sex of the baby?"

"That would be a good idea, I think," replied Catelyn, at which Brienne made a mad scramble for the door. "I'll see you later."

"Bye!" called Brienne quickly, just as she backed out of the door and disappeared into the reception. Jaime could only stare after her, trying to work out what the hell her problem was. Eventually, Doctor Stark interrupted his train of thought.

"So," she said seriously, "are you sure you want to know the sex of your baby?"

"Yes," replied Jaime in an instant. It would be easier to plan everything, he thought, even though he knew he would find it a near impossibility to keep it a secret from his wench. "I would love to know."

"You are having a girl," said Catelyn with a small smile, which only made Jaime break into a broad grin.

"Really? A girl!"

"A girl," repeated Catelyn. "Maybe it is time to start thinking of some names."

Jaime had already started and had planned to run them by Brienne, but after her admission today he was going to have a hard time convincing her to listen.

_I'll do it,_ he told himself, _it will make her happy, I know it will._

"Thank you, Doctor Stark," he said sincerely, "I will book our next appointment with your receptionist, yes?"

"Yes, that's how it works here. It was nice to meet you Jaime."

"You too."

Picking up his coat, Jaime made to move to the door, still marvelling over the fact that Brienne was going to give birth to his daughter, and that now he had to think of a name for his little girl. He had just reached the exit when Catelyn interrupted his exciting thoughts.

"Oh, one more thing," she said, fixing him with a firm look. "Brienne is a sensitive girl; she deserves kindness. So, don't pick her up when you are preparing to drop her."

Jaime nodded sagely, as if he got what Catelyn meant, but in truth he didn't. Brienne was his Baby Mama. He wouldn't be _dropping_ her in this life or the next.

* * *

During the entirety of the car journey home, Jaime could not stop babbling about the maternity clothes shopping trip, and asked Brienne whether she could contact Sansa _now_ to get it in the diary. She reluctantly agreed, but was still weirdly quiet, even as he tried to make her excited about all the things they could do together in the coming days. By the time they got back to their apartment, Jaime felt he was losing his wench completely, so tried to win her over by slinging his arm around Brienne's shoulder and saying, "what do you want for dinner tonight? I'm going to cook you whatever you want because you did amazing today."

To his surprise, Brienne did not get excited by this prospect, even though he knew she loved his cooking, and instead shrugged him off her and pulled her jacket tightly around her shoulders. "No, I think I'm going to go to bed. I'm tired... I'm not feeling great."

Jaime sighed. He had known Brienne long enough now to recognise the little quirks in her facial expression that told him she was lying, and this was one of those times. "Come on, wench," he said gently, "you've been in a foul mood all day. I know something is wrong; tell me what it is, and maybe I can help."

To his slight annoyance, Brienne did what she had done so many times that day and dropped her eyes to the floor to avoid looking at him. "It's nothing you can help with. There are just things I've got to come to terms with, that's all."

"Like what?" he asked, genuinely perplexed.

Just then, something changed in Brienne's stance. As she directed her gaze once more at him, it seemed to Jaime that she was readying herself for a hit that she was expecting to come, or to run into battle. Even so, her eyes were sad. "I've just got to accept what is mine and... what isn't. So, if you don't mind, I would just like a bit of time alone tonight. Okay?"

Sensing there was no arguing with her, Jaime said, "okay, if that's what you need."

"It _is_ what I need," Brienne replied firmly, before turning in the direction of her room. "We'll talk tomorrow. Maybe I can pick a time for you, me, and Sansa to go out shopping."

"I'd like that," he said, failing to keep the sadness out of his voice.

"Great," she huffed, "I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Okay."

"Night."

"Night."

Without another word, Brienne dashed off in the direction of the room, leaving him standing forlornly in the lounge wondering what the hell had just happened. Things were normally so fun and light between them; now, it felt as if a nuclear bomb had gone off in the middle of their apartment and they were dealing with the aftershocks. Hurt by the fact Brienne did not want to talk to him, Jaime went into the kitchen in search of something edible. Once he found some bread and a couple of slices of ham, he set himself to making a sandwich, which failed to take his mind off Brienne in the slightest.

_We both know that turnip is not biologically her baby,_ he thought, _but surely, she can still be in her life once she is born... surely, if that's what Brienne wants._

_It's what I want._

Just then, his phone buzzed. Checking it quickly, he saw it was an alert from social media that Cersei had posted a new picture. Opening it up, Jaime was confronted by the image of his girlfriend arm in arm with Robert Baratheon under the caption _The Sand Snakes Cast Party with this One._ On any other day, Jaime might feel bothered by Cersei's closeness with her castmate, but at that moment, he had bigger fish to fry.

_How can I make Brienne feel better about this whole situation?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you thought in a lovely comment or kudos. If there is anything you want to see happen in upcoming chapters, please prompt me in the comments below or on tumblr.


	10. Part X

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime, Brienne, and Sansa go shopping...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, thanks for coming back! This chapter is built on prompts about baby bumps and baby kicking from sohereforyou and half-past-late on tumblr, so I hope you enjoy! If you want to poke me with any ideas, I am SeeThemFlying.
> 
> As always, I greatly appreciate every single comment, but I am a bit behind on replying to them! I will get there though, so don't be afraid to leave more. I love hearing what people think about this silly story!

Brienne did not really want to go shopping for maternity clothes with Jaime and Sansa, but she was getting hectored and nagged from both sides to such an extent that she eventually caved.

"You need new clothes," Jaime insisted, "Doctor Stark told you so, so why don't you let me buy them for you? You are doing this amazing thing for me; the least I can do is help you out with the easy things like maternity wear. And I can help you pick stuff out too. I'm a fashion photographer for goodness sake. I know what will suit you."

Sansa took a different tack. "Of course you and I are going to go shopping with Jaime. You keep putting off going on your date with Tormund, so I haven't got any gossip there, so the least you can do is let me meet your soulmate."

No matter how many times Brienne tried to insist that the soulmate thing really didn't matter (even though every second she spent with Jaime made him feel more and more like her soulmate), Sansa would refuse to listen and just state sagely, "it's only a matter of time."

That was why a few days after her scan, Brienne found herself getting ready to go out shopping with Jaime and Sansa, trying to button up her coat over her baby bump, while Jaime started prattling on excitedly about what would look good on her. "We need to get you items in blue; cyan, teal, turquoise, cerulean... all of them would bring out your eyes perfectly."

"I like black," replied Brienne, not looking him in the eye.

"Why?"

"It's slimming."

That wasn't really true; the real reason Brienne dressed mostly in blacks and greys was because it was easier to hide away in those colours. A giantess in black was conspicuous, yes, but not as conspicuous as a giantess in magenta. Jaime raised a disapproving eyebrow at her. "I think you should be open to mixing up your wardrobe; in fact, the pregnancy might give you an opportunity to try out more things. If you don't like them, you can go straight back to black after the birth."

"Maybe," she said, before letting out an exasperated huff at the fact she couldn't do the buttons on her coat up.

Jaime looked at her with concern. "What's the matter?"

"I'm too fat to fit in my coat," she groused.

"You're not _fat,_ " he replied, rolling his eyes, "you're _pregnant._ Come on, I think my old winter coat from last year might fit you."

Brienne tried to shake off his offer. "No, it's fine. I don't need a coat... I..."

But, of course, it was far too late for objections. Jaime instantly jogged off to his room and returned a few moments later with a super expensive man's coat that was probably from _Ellaria's_ collection. Before Brienne could say anything, Jaime had helped her take off her own cheap coat and put his on. Once she was firmly wrapped in it, Jaime came around the front and helped her do the buttons up.

_He's not mine,_ she reminded herself madly, even as his fingers ghosted over her belly, _he's not mine, this baby is not mine, and this imaginary family is not mine either. I am just an interloper who is standing in for Cersei. He's Cersei's man. Turnip is Cersei's baby. And this future is Cersei's too._

"There you go," said Jaime proudly, once Brienne was safely in the coat, "is that better?"

"Much,' she replied, feeling her cheeks going red in spite of herself. "Thanks."

"You are welcome," he smiled, before turning away from her to continue to fix his hair.

All things considered, Jaime's coat was very comfortable. Not only was it a fetching maroon, but it did up over Brienne's bump and the inside lining was fluffy, making her feel very warm.

And best of all was the fact it smelt of him.

* * *

When Brienne went to knock on the door of Sansa's flat, Jaime stayed back in the very expensive Pentoshi sports car, afraid he might get a parking ticket. Unfortunately for Brienne, that meant that she had to put up with a few minutes of Sansa entirely missing the bigger picture.

"I cannot _wait_ to meet him," she said, the second she got out of the front door, "it will give me a better visual for wedding planning."

"Seriously, how many times do I have to tell you?" huffed Brienne. "Jaime is with Cersei Marbrand. _Cersei Marbrand!_ How the hell am I meant to compete with the most beautiful woman in the world?"

"How is Cersei Marbrand meant to compete with his soulmate is the question you should be asking yourself," grinned Sansa cheekily, "it's only a matter of time."

Brienne went to bite back at her, but just then Jaime rounded the corner, a megawatt smile on his face. "Hey. I went and spoke to the parking attendant lady who was very nice and said I wouldn't get a ticket if I only hung around for a few minutes, so I decided to come and find you. This must be Sansa."

_Oh god,_ thought Brienne desperately, as she noted Sansa's wide-eyed expression, _I thought I would have more time than this to work out how to introduce them._

As Sansa began to smile like a cat who got the cream, Brienne decided to interrupt her, lest she say something that everyone would regret. "Yes... erm... Jaime, this is Sansa Stark, my best friend and Sansa this is... erm... well, this is Jaime... Jaime Lannister... he's my... err..."

"Baby Daddy," finished Jaime, as if he were pleased by the whole situation. As Sansa just stared at him as if he were some sort of weird alien creature, Jaime had to take the initiative and reach forward to shake her hand. "It's lovely to meet you, Sansa. Brienne talks about you a lot."

Sansa wasted no time in jumping on that opportunity. "Oh, and she talks about you _a lot_ too." Burning red, Brienne shot Sansa a look that she hoped said _shut the fuck up right this second,_ but, unfortunately for Brienne, Sansa did not. "All the time."

"Does she?" asked Jaime cheerily. "Good things, I hope?"

"Oh very good things," beamed Sansa, "particularly that you've got matching..."

"Shall we go and get in the car now?" interrupted Brienne loudly, before grabbing Jaime by the shoulder and shoving him down the garden path, "I am _so_ looking forward to the two of you ordering me into a lot of ugly maternity wear, so we really should get going!"

Although Jaime looked a little suspicious at that statement and Sansa wore a positively gleeful smile, Brienne managed to order them back towards the car without Sansa loudly announcing that Jaime and Brienne were soulmates. Even so, there was something in her best friend's eye that told Brienne she should be very, very worried. Therefore, it was to Brienne's surprise that Sansa was fairly well behaved for the whole car journey across town to _Wildling Wear,_ only asking questions about Jaime and Brienne's living arrangements.

"It's very nice of you to volunteer to look after Brienne after her flat was flooded, but surely a lot of that damage has been fixed now. Couldn't she go home now, Jaime?"

Brienne tried not to look nervous at that question. She had been avoiding the question of her flat for ages, mainly because she was having too much fun living in that little bubble with Jaime and turnip at his apartment. With Sansa bringing it up, Brienne feared that Jaime would finally realise she had infringed on her hospitality long enough.

She need not have worried, however, as Jaime just scoffed at that. "Oh no, I am looking after Brienne, and it's much easier to do that when she is living with me."

"I am sure," smiled Sansa serenely, as if she had no ulterior motive whatsoever. "How exactly are you looking after her?"

"You know," Jaime shrugged, glancing briefly at Brienne, "cooking for her. Giving her foot massages. Going to scans with her. Whatever she needs, I'm there. Aren't I, wench?"

"Yes," replied Brienne meekly, barely able to suppress her desire to scream at the game Sansa was playing.

Pretending she was ignorant of Brienne's predicament, Sansa just nodded at Jaime. "Mmm. I imagine Brienne has a lot of _needs,_ and I hope you will do a good job in _satisfying_ them."

"Of course," said Jaime happily, totally oblivious to the innuendo, "I'll be there, in whatever way Brienne wants me."

"And what way do you want Jaime, Brienne?" asked Sansa from the back of the car, her eyes wide. "Don't you think you should have a conversation about it?"

"I... I... I..."

At that moment, the car was forced to pause in some traffic, giving Jaime the opportunity to look around at Sansa. "I think I help Brienne when she needs it, don't I wench?"

"Wench?" asked Sansa suspiciously, "why do you call her wench?"

Even as Brienne wanted nothing more than to curl up into a little ball and die, Jaime started to explain. "We both have the same favourite film. It is an obscure black and white film called _The Kingslayer and the Wench_ about..."

"The mythical heroes the Kingslayer and the Blue Knight," finished Sansa, "yeah I know. Brienne has tried to get me to watch it about fifty seven million times, although I only caved about a year ago, although I still don't really get the reference."

"Well," said Jaime, as if he was explaining something to a very stupid child, "Brienne reminds me of the Blue Knight - brave, honourable, and true, a shining example to everyone else - so I gave her the same nickname. Wench."

Brienne could barely look at Jaime's glowing smile, it was too gosh darn cute, and she did not want to see Sansa's gloating expression. Therefore, she was very thankful when she saw _Wildling Wear_ hoving into view outside and could focus her attention on it. "Oh, I think we're here," she announced loudly, and then started wasting words directing Jaime into a parking space, mainly so Sansa did not have the room to speak.

Once they were parked up, Jaime put his hand on Brienne's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I'm just going to pay for the space. Why don't you and Sansa go and start shopping and I'll come and meet you in a minute?"

Thankful at the opportunity to separate Jaime and Sansa, Brienne nodded enthusiastically. "Yep, that sounds great. Come on Sansa, let's go."

"But Brienne, I..."

Not wasting any time, Brienne leapt out the car and nearly dragged Sansa out behind her, while Jaime disappeared off in search of the parking metre. Once he was safely far away, Brienne turned to Sansa, wearing a firm look. "Sansa, if you love me... please _shut up."_

"What?" smiled Sansa mischievously, "I haven't said anything."

"But you've implied it. Jaime doesn't know about the whole soulmark thing and even if he did, he has told me he is going to pick Cersei over his soulmate, so just _stop."_

Sansa let out a dramatic sigh. "But what if you could change his mind? What if knowing that fact helped him see sense? You could just tell him..."

"Why on earth would I want to do that?" Brienne asked, not particularly genuinely. If Jaime was a free man, Brienne certainly would be giving some thought to how she could charm him, even while she dismissed it as a total impossibility.

Sansa rolled eyes. "Number One, he's _fucking gorgeous._ Number Two, he's letting you live in his house rent free and is cooking for you and giving you foot massages. Those are the actions of a dream boyfriend. And Number Three; his favourite movie is _The Kingslayer and the Wench,_ exactly the same as you. It's a boring, obscure black and white film that put me to sleep, so the fact that you have that in common proves above everything that you two are _destined_ to be."

With that over the top sentimental rubbish, Brienne had finally had enough. "If you _dare_ say that, or anything like that, in front of Jaime, I swear I will never speak to you again."

Sansa gave her a teasing smile. "Sometimes, Brienne, people just need to be helped along to see what is good for them."

* * *

Several hours later, Brienne found herself in the changing room of _Wildling Wear_ trying on one of the absolute last items of clothing in the shop that could possibly fit her. With Jaime and Sansa's help, Brienne had found a number of things that were _fine;_ they covered her bump and looked acceptable, but they did not make her eyes pop or any of the other ludicrous things Jaime said they did. Consequently, Brienne was feeling a little resentful towards the last item - a blue beaded kaftan - that she was trying on while Jaime and Sansa talked outside.

"How do you like living with Brienne?" Sansa asked in that kind of sing-song voice that told Brienne that her best friend was rooting around for information.

"I love it," replied Jaime, his tone cheery, "it's so nice to have someone to talk to, I mean really talk to, about everything."

"Everything?"

"The baby situation. Our lives. Her PhD. My job. It amazes me every day that she seems to be _interested_ in what I have to say... like... she genuinely wants to hear my opinions on things. She also makes fun of me in a nice way instead of a rude way, which feels... err... great."

Even as Brienne started blushing from the safety of the changing cubicle, Sansa continued probing. "Why do you think that is? Do you have a special _connection_ or something?"

"I... I... I'm with Cersei," he said, suddenly flustered, to which Sansa let out a titter of friendly laughter.

"Oh, don't worry, I'm not trying to insinuate something untoward," she said in a lilting voice, although Brienne could tell that Sansa definitely _was_ trying to insinuate something untoward, "it's just you sometimes make connections with people that feel... transcendent."

"Yeah," agreed Jaime, "I suppose that's what it is like with Brienne. We've become friends so fast."

Although Brienne could not see Sansa, she knew she was smiling far too innocently. "Of course. In my life, I think there is only one person I can compare your relationship with Brienne to."

"Who is that?"

"Oh, Sandor. He's..."

Even though she had not quite straightened the kaftan properly and had not put her leggings back on, leaving her legs bare, Brienne came hurtling out of the cubicle at the speed of light, wanting to shut Sansa up. There was no way that she would let Sansa tell the story of her blossoming relationship with Sandor, the guy who she shared her soulmark with.

"What do you think?" Brienne snapped hurriedly, not wanting Sansa and Jaime to be able to continue their conversation. Perhaps it was because she had interrupted them, or perhaps because of her barking tone, but for some reason, Jaime's green eyes had gone very wide and her was staring at her with some unreadable emotion. Feeling worried, Brienne said, "what's the matter?"

Then, it was as if Sansa was no longer in the room. Taking a few steps forward so he was right in front of her, Jaime put his hands on Brienne's shoulders and then ran them down her arms, setting her skin tingling in every place he touched.

"Blue is a good colour on you, my lady," Jaime said, his voice a little husky, "it goes well with your eyes."

It took less than a second for Brienne to realise that he was quoting _The Kingslayer and the Wench._ Without thinking, she slipped into the role of The Blue Knight opposite his Goldenhand the Just, knowing the words as well as an old nursery rhyme. "Septa Donyse padded out the bodice, to give it that shape. She said you sent it to me." Brienne paused, just as the actress did in the film. "You look..."

"Different?" Jaime recited, wearing the same half-smile as the actor who played Goldenhand the Just. "More meat on the ribs and fewer lice in my hair, that's all. The stump's the same."

"The white cloak..." began Brienne, imagining Jaime in the regalia of a Kingsguard. It suited him perfectly.

"Is new," Jaime proclaimed, taking on the subtle self-consciousness of his character in that moment, "but I'm sure I'll soil it soon enough."

Brienne stepped forward, just as the Blue Knight did at this point in the film. Jaime's hands were still on her wrists, and Brienne felt closer to him than she ever had. Yet, to a certain extent, this action felt _safe_ because, in that moment, they weren't Jaime and Brienne, but Goldenhand the Just and the Blue Knight. Characters in a dream of another world.

"That wasn't..." Brienne proclaimed in fake hesitation, "I was about to say that it becomes you."

The next part was Brienne's favourite moment in the whole film, because it was the moment that it became perfectly obvious that Goldenhand the Just loved the Blue Knight. With her simple compliment, the once bitter Kingslayer smiled, transforming from the Beast into a Prince. In a perfect echo of what happened in the film, Jaime glowed with sunlight. It was so blinding, that Brienne only came fully back into the room when Sansa let out an overdramatic cough.

* * *

After a day of shopping, Brienne, Jaime, and Sansa went to a nearby restaurant for burgers. To Brienne's surprise, Sansa had stopped making suggestive little comments and spent most of the meal in silence. Brienne could not help but feel guilty about that, because she was sure it was due to the fact that she and Jaime just spent all evening trading inside jokes. Once dinner was over, Jaime drove them both back to Sansa's flat. Knowing Sansa would want a moment alone with her Brienne volunteered to walk her to her front door. She had expected that Sansa would make another comment about her and Jaime's relationship, but instead, Brienne's best friend just gave her a knowing smile.

"It was very nice to meet Jaime today, thank you. I'm sure I will be seeing plenty more of him."

"Perhaps," replied Brienne, not wanting to make anything feel set in stone when everything was so fragile.

"Oh, it is a _definite_ ," grinned Sansa, before turning around to unlock her front door, "we will speak later, okay?"

On saying goodbye to Sansa, Brienne returned to the car and let Jaime distract her with a silly theory about dragonglass actually being dragon poop, so she did not really have a moment to digest the day properly until they got back to their apartment. Once they got inside, Jaime instantly went to have a shower while Brienne laid on the sofa answering all the messages that she had been ignoring all day. The first was from Tormund.

_Tormund:_ So, I was thinking, maybe we could go to this Heavy Metal Bar I know over in Flea Bottom called _The Iron Gate._ They do great music, it has a really awesome vibe, and loves freaks and rejects like us. What do you think?

Brienne's thumb hovered over the keypad. She had been putting Tormund off and off for days, and she knew her reasoning was crap. There was just a small part of her that enjoyed pretending this thing with Jaime was real; that she really was pregnant with his child, that he really did care about her, and that they were slowly building a family together. In the moments when Jaime was at his kindest and sweetest, Brienne found great pleasure in believing it was all true, but, even as she luxuriated in the warmth of just spending time with him, it was always laced with a hint of pain. It was an illusion, after all.

From what Brienne had gathered about Tormund, he would be nothing like Jaime. He was rough and ready, the type of man that women like Brienne Tarth were expected to settle for just because they showed them the slightest bit of attention. They weren't the dream, but they were reality.

_Tormund is what I can expect,_ thought Brienne, _not Jaime... but maybe I can make something nice with Tormund._

_Maybe I'll grow to care for him like Jaime cares for Cersei, so I can eventually put him before my soulmate._

_Before Jaime._

Having made her decision to respond, Brienne was just about to reply _yes_ when a message from Sansa interrupted her thoughts.

_Sansa:_ Babe, I knew you wouldn't accept this in person, so I decided to message it to you. Just FYI, Jaime's into you.

Rolling her eyes, Brienne tried to ignore her and go back to Tormund, but Sansa would not stop there.

_Sansa:_ Like... really, really into you.

_Sansa:_ I don't think he has any clue he's into you, but he's a stupid man, so it may take him a little while to realise.

_Sansa:_ But he can't hide the truth. He _digs_ you. Because, although it may have escaped his attention, but you are _soulmates._ You both quoted _The Kingslayer and the Wench_ at each other after all! And when he realises... oh god... that sexual tension you two were giving off in that changing room is going to EXPLODE.

Fed up with Sansa's flights of fancy, Brienne muted her friend, not wanting to get her hopes up. It was bad enough that she wanted Jaime; that Sansa was trying to say it was all possible only made Brienne's heart sore.

_It's not possible,_ she told herself, _it's not possible, for too many reasons to count._

Just then, Jaime came into the lounge, a smile on his face. His hair was still damp and he had changed into a pair of slacks and a mismatched t-shirt; that he was comfortable enough to wear such an unusual ensemble in front of her spoke of an easy familiarity that they alone shared. As Brienne put her phone away, he sat down next to her and tapped his thighs. Without a second thought, Brienne put her feet on his lap and let him rub her aching soles.

_It won't hurt pretending for a few more moments, will it?_

"I enjoyed today, wench," he smiled. "We should go on more shopping trips."

"You didn't find me a totally infuriating model... _ahhhh,"_ she moaned, as Jaime pressed his thumb into the ball of her foot and began to work it in small circles.

"No," he chuckled, clearly amused by how much she was enjoying the massage, "in fact, I thought you were mostly amenable to my ideas. I think I could persuade you to wear anything I want before long."

Brienne snorted at him, "don't be ridiculous. I have much more sense than... oh!"

Jaime's smile dimmed. "Sorry, did I poke your foot too hard?"

"No," she replied gently, putting her hand on her belly. "Turnip just kicked."

Jaime's green eyes went very wide. "She did?"

Just as Jaime spoke, she did it again, making Brienne's belly swell with her movement. Shocked, Brienne took her feet off Jaime lap and curled her legs around herself, allowing him room to move closer to her so he too could witness this little miracle. As her belly physically bulged, Jaime lifted up his hand and reached out to touch her, before remembering.

"Brienne," he asked, his cheeks flushed, "can I...?"

"Of course," she replied, bringing his hand down just to the point where turnip was kicking. As she did so, Jaime shuffled closer, putting his other hand on Brienne's lower back, his fingers warm. Almost enclosed in his arms, Brienne had to resist the urge to sigh as Jaime began to stroke her belly, so close that she could almost reach out and pull him into her embrace.

After a few moments of this warm intimacy, Jaime spoke. "Thank you for this, Brienne."

"For what?" she asked, surprised at the tears she could see forming in his eyes. He leant his head against hers and Brienne could not help but shiver.

"For letting me be a part of it," he smiled. "For making it feel real."

At that altogether sweet statement, Brienne could not help but let him continue to rub her belly.

_What's a few more moments when this feels so good?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although there was no Sansa kicking Jaime in the balls as was requested by several people in the last chapter, I do hope you enjoyed that one! And I would love to hear from you in the form of comments or kudos :D


	11. Part XI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne goes on her date with Tormund...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I hope you appreciate this quick post! I'm going away for the weekend, so I probably won't be able to post until Monday, so I hope you like this. Anonymous on tumblr asked for Jaime to get a clue and, although I can't quite promise that, there is a tiny step in this chapter! As ever, I would love to hear from you in the form of comments or kudos :D

Jaime and Brienne had stayed that way on the sofa for longer than either had anticipated, luxuriating in the warmth and closeness, so it was only when Brienne had returned to her bedroom that she had finally noticed what Jaime had said.

_She._

The baby was a girl.

After getting into bed, Brienne could not help but run her hand across her belly, letting herself imagine that little girl. If Brienne ever had a daughter, she had wanted to name her Alysanne - Alys for short - after Good Queen Alysanne from history who did so many wonderful things for the ladies of Westeros through her women's courts. Lost in a daydream, Brienne imagined that Alys would look like Jaime; tall, tanned, with a mass of unruly golden curls, and with a green-eyed gaze that could still hearts. Like him, she would be kind and giving, and have so much love in her heart that she did not quite know what to do with it.

_Perhaps Alys will have a little of me too, perhaps..._

_No._

_She is not mine._

Brienne knew she should be angry at Jaime for spilling the secret of turnip's sex when she had expressly asked him not to but, in that moment, she could not summon the ability to be annoyed. He had just been so happy that his baby was moving and that he could feel her kicking, that Brienne could not begrudge him his reaction. It was only natural he wanted to feel part of the process of building a family and, without Cersei's presence, Brienne was playing substitute.

 _I can't begrudge him that piece of happiness,_ she thought. _I can't._

What she could begrudge him for, however, was his reaction a few days later when Brienne emerged from her room wearing her beaded blue kaftan and announced that she was going on a date and would be back late.

Jaime choked on the water he was drinking. "What?"

"You heard me," she repeated, fiddling around with her handbag, "I'm going on a date. Don't wait up for me."

Putting his glass down on the coffee table, Jaime got to his feet, crossing his arms across his chest. "Is this another one of those internet dates?"

"Yeah," replied Brienne, looking him in the eye for the first time. "Why?"

Jaime gave her a slightly patronising stare. "Because the last one you went on with Dick the skier was a total waste of time, wasn't it?"

"His name wasn't Dick," Brienne said waspishly, "it was _Dickon."_

"Well, whatever. It was still a total waste of time."

Although part of her felt Jaime was right, she was not going to give into his ridiculous line of argument, so parried back. "This date isn't with Dickon though, is it? This date is with _Tormund_ , so might be much better. We might have a great time!"

Jaime raised a judgemental eyebrow at her. "No you won't."

"Yes we will."

"No you won't."

"Yes we... you know what? I don't have time for this." Brienne turned towards the door, but Jaime pulled her back in with a tantalising question.

"No you won't, because you know it is completely doomed, don't you?"

What was he trying to say? That no one could ever like ugly Brienne Tarth? Riled, Brienne snapped her head around to stare at him ferociously, "and why do you say that? Because I look ugly in this dress?"

"No!" he spluttered, going a little red, "you know I think you look great in that..."

"Then what?" she countered, fed up with his bad attitude, "if it's because I am pregnant, then Tormund already knows. I thought it was best to be honest about the whole situation, because it would be a bit weird if I turned up looking like this and hadn't told him."

"It's not that either," replied Jaime, not meeting her eye.

"Then what is it?"

Jaime let out a little sigh, then pulled his arms more tightly across his chest, as if he was trying to protect himself from harm. "You know it's a total waste of your time because Tormund is not your soulmate, right?"

Brienne froze, not quite sure what to say. Did Jaime know the truth of what they were to each other? Eventually, Brienne found the wherewithal to say, "and you know that for certain, do you?"

"Yes," he replied quickly, "I do."

The hairs on the back of Brienne's neck stood on end. In that moment, Jaime was gazing at her so intently and blushing so prettily that she realised in an instant that he _did_ know and that, just like her, he had spent ages pretending not to have a clue about the soulmarks just to make it easier between them.

 _Why did he have to do this just before I went on a date?_ thought Brienne sadly. _Why now?_

"How long have you known?" she asked, dreading the answer.

He shrugged. "You let me massage your feet all the time."

"Oh."

Then it was his turn. "How long have _you_ known?"

"Since the day you rescued me from Seaworth's," replied Brienne honestly. "You took your shirt off."

"Oh."

Following that admission, there was then a silence that seemed to go on for seventeen thousand years, and Brienne had to take a deep breath before charging at the situation to confront it head on. "It's not like it matters though, is it?"

"No?" Jaime asked, almost surprised.

"No... I mean... who wants to be held prisoner by a stupid little picture of a sword on their big toe?" she said forcefully, standing up to her full height. "And anyway, you said so yourself. You have chosen Cersei over any hypothetical soulmate and it's working out for the two of you, isn't it?"

"Yes," he replied quickly.

"Well then, me choosing to date Tormund is not a total waste of time... because it might work out with him too. He might be my Cersei."

"Mmm," replied Jaime, dropping his eyes to the floor. "If you think so."

"I _do_ think so."

There was then another silence, in which Jaime drew circles on the hard wood flooring with his foot before looking at her once more. "And anyway... platonic soulmates are a thing. I asked the internet."

"Good," she said, even though it felt like her heart was falling through the floor. "I'm going to go on my date with Tormund then."

"Fine."

"Okay then."

"Bye."

Then, without another word, Brienne turned on her heel and fled from the apartment, not wanting him to see the tears that were gathering in her eyes.

* * *

Brienne managed to get control of herself by the end of her bus journey across King's Landing. In fact, by the time she arrived at _The Iron Gate,_ she felt cool, calm, and collected, and she wasn't thinking about her platonic soulmate in the slightest, nor the way his hand felt as he stroked her belly. A few minutes before arriving, she had received a message from Tormund.

 _Tormund:_ Sorry, running a bit late. It's taking ages to get my beard trimmed. Why don't you get the drinks in? I like fermented milk.

Brienne replied with a quick _okay,_ even though she was a little annoyed that he was badly organised enough to get his beard trimmed just before a date and a little squicked out that he drunk fermented milk. Even so, on arrival in at _The Iron Gate,_ Brienne made her way over to the bar and sat down on a stool. Tormund had informed her that _The Iron Gate_ had a good vibe therefore it was a bit of a surprise when she discovered the place was mostly empty other than herself, two men playing pool, and the barman, who noticed her instantly and came to serve her.

"What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?" he asked, leaning on the bar as he did so.

Brienne narrowed her eyes at him. Men rarely began interactions with her by saying nice things, not unless they were offering her ten thousand dragons to rent out her womb for nine months. However, there was something about the barman's easy smile, his inoffensive looks, and his honest brown eyes that stopped Brienne from pushing him away instantly.

"Are you saying _The Iron Gate_ is not a nice place?"

He let out a little laugh. "I would say it is a bit of a dive. Just wait until the death metal karaoke starts later. You are going to wish you never came."

Brienne did not want to hear that _The Iron Gate_ was a bit crap, because she was already fighting the urge to return to Jaime's apartment, curl up on the sofa next to her Baby Daddy and ask him to stroke her stomach again. Knowing she could not do that, however, Brienne just gave the barman a tight smile. "I'm here for a date... and the date picked the venue."

"Oh," replied the barman, nodding sagely. "Well then, can I go and get you a drink to bide your time until he gets here? We have a special deal on whisky shots."

Brienne shook her head sadly; she really did feel like a whisky shot in that moment, but she had turnip to think about. "Nah, I can't. I'm pregnant."

The barman huffed in amusement. "Is it your date's?"

"No," replied Brienne, her mind going back once more to the perfect little girl with Jaime's blonde curls and his green eyes. "I'm... I'm a surrogate mother. Only a few more months and I'll be free as a bird."

That statement really made the barman look surprised. "Oh... that's brave of you."

Brienne furrowed her brows at him. "You think?"

"Of course," he continued, "carrying someone else's baby must bring up all sorts of emotional shit."

At the barman's recognition of her hidden pain, Brienne could not help but smile at him. Nobody else had ever really asked how she was coping with the emotional aspect of her pregnancy. "Thanks... no one has taken the time to notice that difficult side of the process before. It's all about whether I'm fed, or have the right maternity clothes, or whether I can get to a scan on my own or whatever."

The barman shrugged. "Those are all important things, but I imagine it will be difficult giving up the baby at the end, and not getting too attached. I have a daughter I don't see myself and it's... hard."

"Is it?" she asked, her voice strained. Obviously, she had been trying to distance herself from Jaime and turnip, but there was something in the barman's expression that made her think that separation from the both of them would turn out to be even more painful than anticipated, especially now turnip was slowly becoming and person and Jaime was... well... _Jaime._

"Yes," said the barman sagely, "so I advise you to get prepared for it."

There were a few seconds of awkward silence before the barman shook his head slightly, as if to dispel the painful feelings, before smiling at her jauntily. "So, what can I get you to drink? We don't have a special deal on mocktails and I'm not really sure how to make half of them, but I can give it a try."

Brienne could not help but smile; the barman was good conversation, after all.

After ordering a glass of fermented milk for Tormund and an alcohol free mojito for herself, Brienne ended up sitting at the bar chatting to the barman for half an hour. Feeling relaxed, Brienne could not help but feel how nice it was to just talk to someone about something without a cloud over her head; with Tyrion it was her PhD, with Sansa it was judgements about Brienne's love life, and with Jaime it was...

Well, whatever the hell it was with Jaime.

The barman was halfway through instructing her on how to make a perfect Sex on the Beach when Brienne suddenly felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her waist, and she was nearly lifted off her feet. "Big Woman!" he called, instantly letting Brienne know she was in the process of being accosted by Tormund Giantsbane. "You came!"

"Yes, I did," she snapped, as he put her down hastily, "but you are half an hour late."

He at least had the good grace to look a little guilty. "I'm sorry. I was getting my beard trimmed."

Brienne saw no evidence of that - Tormund was still sporting a great big bushy beard after all - so she gave him a sceptical look. "Really?"

"Really," he said, before letting out a burst of laughter. "Ah! I see you got me my fermented milk! Come on! Let's got get a table." Not being able to stop him, the barman gave Brienne a sympathetic look as Tormund dragged her away, barely giving her time to grab hold of her own drink. Before too long, the pair of them found a booth and when Brienne sat down, Tormund shoved himself down next to him in such a way that he was pressed entirely against her, the studs on his leather jacket digging into her arms. Unable to move, Brienne was forced to endure Tormund waggling his eyebrows at her as he took a sip of his fermented milk, the liquid trickling through his beard.

"I've been looking forward to meeting you Big Woman," he purred, his voice gravelly.

"My name is Brienne," she replied tersely, "please call me Brienne."

"Alright _Brienne,_ " chuckled Tormund, "I didn't realise you were such a ballbreaker... I love feisty women; I like to wrestle after all."

Brienne could barely suppress her sigh. Jaime had told her that men liked bitches; why had she played so easily into Tormund's hand? She wanted a man who would be gentle with her - who would stroke her stomach affectionately and quote her favourite film at her - not one who treated her like the huge lump of flesh she was. 

"I don't," she muttered.

At her slightly bitter statement, Tormund had the gall to wink. "I'll persuade you. I can fling you down and make you feel like a woman. You'll love it."

Looking at her uncouth date - with his scraggly beard, his over the top laugh, and his torn jeans - Brienne could already tell that she would not.

Her fantasies were focussed on someone else, after all.

* * *

Although it very quickly became apparent that Brienne really _really_ wanted to escape Tormund, he had her wedged into a corner, so her only line of defence was to drink her drink and be a bit of a bitch. Unfortunately, the ruder she got the more it turned out that Jaime was one hundred percent right; Tormund _loved_ Brienne playing the bitch and seemed really into her. Consequently, he repeatedly tried to win her over with ill judged flirtation.

"I'm good in bed. I think I could satisfy you. The two of us could make hundreds of ginger haired giants who would conquer the world."

Sighing, Brienne had to suppress the urge to shout that she did not want one hundred ginger babies. She wanted Alys and Jaime, and for this game they were playing back at the apartment to be in some sense real. 

_But it is impossible,_ she told herself, _Jaime and I are just platonic soulmates. He loves Cersei. He wants Cersei._

_So I have got to pick Tormund over Jaime._

Just then, the giant ginger wildling started discussing at length his favourite moves in the bedroom, and Brienne suddenly felt quite sick. Not being able to pass it off as morning sickness, she evaluated her life decisions once more.

_Even if I can't have Jaime, would I really pick Tormund over him?_

_Tormund over Jaime? The thought is ridiculous!_

_I would much rather pine forever for a man I can never have that force myself into being with Tormund._

"Thank you for a nice evening," Brienne said uneasily, trying to escape from the booth, "but I think I'm going to have to go." 

Noticing what she was attempting to do, Tormund's expression darkened. "No! Don't go! We haven't got to the good stuff yet!"

"The good stuff?"

Grinning at her like a madman, Tormund waggled his eyebrows at her in a way Brienne presumed he thought was seductive. "Well... you are a Big Woman, so I think it is only right that I show you I am a _big man."_

The euphemism about his penis being one final step too far, Brienne tried to stand up, but Tormund pulled her back down. "Hey! Let go!"

"No!" he cried, wrapping his arms around her. "We're still having fun. We'll make a great pair!"

"You've got to be kidding me!" she laughed bitterly, pushing against him as hard as she could.

"Let me steal you!" grinned Tormund, letting out a hearty laugh, "wildling style!"

"Are you drunk?" she hissed.

"Drunk on love, perhaps!" he bellowed. "Do you know that song? It's by _Patchface;_ they're a great heavy metal band. _Drunk on LOOOOOOOOVVVVEEE!!!"_

Amazed by the fact that Tormund was now in the middle of a death metal scream in an attempt to woo her, Brienne quite forget that she was meant to be fighting to get him off and just stared at him incredulously. "I... I... I..."

"Ahem." At the sound of that little cough, Tormund stopped screaming and both Brienne and Tormund turned around to see the barman from earlier standing next to their table, a concerned look on his face.

"What do you want?" barked Tormund.

"Sir," said the barman, his voice slippery, "are you the owner of a great big _Wildling_ motorbike parked outside?"

"Yeah," replied Tormund worriedly, loosening his grip on Brienne. "Why?"

The barman gave him a saccharine smile. "It's blocking someone in. You need to move it."

"But it wasn't parked anywhere it could block anyone in!" declared Tormund, his voice growing angry. "It's my baby. I wouldn't put it anywhere it could get damaged."

"Well, if you don't move it now, it's going to get run over by a huge delivery lorry, so I would go... _sharpish."_

There was something menacing, almost threatening in the barman's tone that caused Tormund to go all wide-eyed and panicked. Not giving Brienne a second thought, Tormund leapt out of his seat and went charging across the bar, calling out for his motorbike as if he expected her to reply."I'm coming Giantess! Don't worry, I'll be with you soon!"

As Tormund galloped out of the near empty bar, Brienne surged with relief, her whole body feeling light and relaxed in a way it had not since she first entered _The Iron Gate._ Even so, she could not help but watch Tormund go, incredulous at the type of man she had let chat her up on the internet. Scolding herself for not being more careful, it did not take long for Brienne to work out why she had let it go so far; the reason was perfectly obvious.

 _I need to get over Jaime,_ she thought. _And finding someone else is the best way to do it._

_It is just that person will definitely not be Tormund._

Musing once again on the gold of Jaime's hair and his startling green eyes, Brienne was only pulled back into reality by the barman, who was giving her his familiar, easy smile. "If I were you, I would do a runner right now before he realises that I was totally lying."

At his light tone, Brienne focussed on him to consider him properly, scrutinising her saviour for the first time since she had come into the bar. "Thanks. You didn't have to do that."

The barman shrugged. "It's the right thing to do when seeing a damsel in distress."

As Jaime and Tormund had both managed made her feel so ineligible for love or tender care that afternoon - Jaime by his casual dismissal of their soulmate status, Tormund by his constant fetishising of her - the barman's small kindness warmed her heart. As she got to her feet to go, Brienne could not help but smile at him. "I've just realised I never asked your name," she said, looking into his warm brown eyes, wondering whether she was noticing something she had never seen before.

Catching the hint Brienne had just released into the world, the barman smiled at her lazily. "My name is Hyle. Hyle Hunt. And I'm just wondering... can I have your number?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone has read any of my other fics before, you are probably aware I love a good Hyle subplot!
> 
> Thank you for reading! I would be so interested to hear what you think of this chapter in the form of comments and kudos <3


	12. Part XII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In an effort to win over Brienne, Jaime meets an unexpected person...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad you have all come back for this chapter. I am a little Christmas drunk, so if there are any typos, it is entirely my fault :D
> 
> This chapter is made up of suggestions by both theladypaimon and ntlpurpolia, so thank you so much! I hope you enjoy!

Jaime started to notice it in the days after Brienne's date with Tormund.

_The giggling._

It seemed to happen every single time she looked at her phone - _giggle, giggle, giggle_ \- and when Jaime asked what she was laughing about and to share the joke, Brienne would just wave her hand dismissively and tell him it was nothing for him to worry about. Yet the more she did it, the more Jaime thought it was definitely something for him to worry about. She couldn't just be listening to a silly podcast because she would recommend it to him, or watching cat videos on Raventube because she would tell him, or even something funny she had discovered in her PhD research, because she knew that sort of thing made him laugh. Consequently, it seemed to Jaime it could only be one thing.

Her date with Tormund had gone _well._ To his surprise, that just made Jaime feel weird.

 _It can't have gone well,_ he grumbled, _I'm her soulmate. How could she see anything in anyone else?_

And then he remembered.

 _I see something in Cersei,_ he thought, _how can I begrudge Brienne seeing something in Tormund?_

Even though he turned that statement into a mantra so as to avoid getting annoyed every time Brienne giggled while looking at her phone, eventually it got too much for Jaime. This proved especially true when, one night, he was trying to test a new Beef Stroganoff recipe on her and instead of answering his questions about the consistency of the sauce, she kept looking at her phone and _giggling._

"Is Tormund truly that hysterical?" he groused, "that you would rather laugh at his memes than tell me whether my dinner is going to poison you or not?"

At his slightly aggressive question, Brienne's startling blue eyes lifted from her phone in order to give him an admonishing look. "I'm not talking to Tormund."

"No?" asked Jaime, surprised, "is it some other idiot you're chatting to on the internet?"

Brienne narrowed her eyes at him. "No, I didn't meet Hyle on the internet. I met him in real life."

At Brienne's admission, there was a strange lurch in Jaime's stomach which he wasn't expecting. " _Real life?"_ he stammered. "When did this happen?"

Brienne went a little red. "Hyle saved me from my disastrous date with Tormund and I thought... it would be a good idea to say yes when he asked me from my number."

"He sounds like a real knight in shining armour," said Jaime sarcastically, "stealing you from the guy you are on a date with and then asking you out."

Now Brienne really did look cross. "There was no _stealing_ involved. I am an independent woman with my own free will. Hyle was nice to me, so I decided I would quite like to talk to him again. What's wrong with that?"

Jaime let out a scoff of laughter. "You know my opinion on this; I think you attempting to date is totally pointless."

"And you know _my_ opinion on this," Brienne countered, her cheeks flushing. "You have no say on who I can and can't date just because of some stupid sword on your arm. You have made your choice by being with Cersei; let me make mine."

Clearly quite annoyed with him, Brienne picked up her bowl of Beef Stroganoff and went to eat it in front of the TV, away from him. Jaime couldn't help but feel very grumpy about that. Why couldn't she have a serious conversation about them being platonic soulmates without getting annoyed?

* * *

Things then proceeded to get even worse over the next few days when, on returning from her shift at Seaworth's, Brienne immediately had a phone call in her room with Hyle as the two of them set about deciding the location for their first date. Jaime could not help but sit in his own room, listening to her through the wall.

"Yes... it was _Greyjoy's Roller Rink_ I used to go to as a child... oh gosh yes! That sounds so fun! Are you any good at roller-skating? Mmm... mmm... mmm... mmm... I am just okay; it has been a long time... but yes, that sounds an amazing plan... so sweet for you to think of it... so sweet... why don't you check out the opening times and then we can work out when we can go? Mmm... mmm... mmm... okay Hyle. We'll chat soon. Bye!"

"You're so _sweet_ Hyle," muttered Jaime in a stupid high falsetto, a copy of Brienne's tone, "that's such a good idea. I used to go to _Greyjoy's Roller Rink_ as a child. So _sweet."_

 _I can be bloody well be sweet,_ thought Jaime crossly, _better than Hyle. I'll prove it to her..._

_I'll prove it to her..._

An idea blooming in his mind, Jaime dashed out of his room and went and got his and Brienne's coats, before going to knock on her bedroom door. In a moment, she had answered it, her hand carefully cradling her swelling belly. "Oh, hi," she said, a little red faced, "do you want to discuss what we are having for dinner?"

"I'm not cooking tonight," declared Jaime, a smile on his face. "We're going out."

Brienne's eyes widened in surprised. "Are we?"

"Yep, here's your coat. Come on."

Evidently not against the idea of going out, Brienne took his old coat from him and began to put it on. Nevertheless, her expression was a little tentative. "Where are we going?" she asked.

Jaime just smiled at her. "It's a surprise."

Intrigued, Brienne did not ask him anymore questions as Jaime led her down to his expensive sports car in the underground garage, or when he helped her into the car. In fact, it was only when they were halfway across the city, heading towards Flea Bottom, that Brienne finally raised a sceptical eyebrow at him. "Why are we in Flea Bottom?" she asked. "I was thinking we were going to go to some swanky restaurant that served us tiny plates of food."

"Why did you think that?" asked Jaime, smirking.

"Because you are a bit of a posh twat," laughed Brienne, "I couldn't imagine you slumming it in Flea Bottom for love nor money."

 _Perhaps for love,_ thought Jaime, before shaking that thought away.

"You have such a low opinion of me, wench," he smiled, just as they pulled up to where they were going, knowing full well it would change her mood.

As he expected, when she saw the gaudy neon sign, it did just that as Brienne's mouth opened in shock and joy. "Oh Jaime," she whispered, her eyes sparkling, "I don't have a low opinion of you... I just never realised you could be this sweet."

 _Sweeter than Hyle,_ he thought triumphantly.

"Come on Baby Mama," Jaime said, holding out his hand. "I can be sweet when I want to be."

Without a moment to think about it, Brienne locked her fingers with his in gratitude. "I can't believe you remembered!"

"Of course I did," he smiled, amused by her surprise, "you said your happiest memories as a child were here... how could I forget?"

Brienne had told him all about _Heddle's Ice Cream Parlour_ a few weeks into their acquaintance. While her mother had been dying of her long, lingering illness, Brienne's father had moved the whole family from Tarth to King's Landing in order to get the best medical care money could buy. It bankrupted the family, but it gave Brienne a few more months with her mother, which they spent here at _Heddle's Ice Cream Parlour._ Jaime knew it was the last good memories she had with her mother, and he had been meaning to bring her here for weeks but had never found the time.

Now was the time.

As they exited the car and went into the parlour, Brienne's eyes were as big as two saucers, like a young child looking at Christmas lights. She looked so unbearably cute and innocent that Jaime couldn't help but keep holding her hand, even when they went and found a table.

"So, what ice cream do you recommend?" Jaime asked, as Brienne finally turned away from her childlike wonder to look at him.

"Oh, the Knickerbocker Glory used to be incredible, if enormous," smiled Brienne, "but I don't know if they still do it."

On checking the menu, Jaime discovered they _did_ still do it, although it recommended that it was for two. "Do you want to share with me, wench?" he asked.

Brienne nodded, her cheeks pink. "Okay, I'll share with you."

After they ordered their ice cream, Jaime found that some of the tension that had been bubbling between him and Brienne ever since her date with Tormund had lessened somewhat, since they just talked in a way they had when they first met. And, to Jaime's delight, Brienne did not check her phone and giggle once.

"This is _delicious,_ " moaned Jaime after the waitress brought their sweet treat over, leaving him to eat the Knickerbocker Glory with his spoon while holding Brienne's hand with the other. "Like... one of the gods must have made this it is that good."

"Back in the day it was just Masha who made the ice cream," laughed Brienne, "but they may have employed the Stranger to make it now, I'm not sure."

"Oh yes," replied Jaime sarcastically, "because of course it's the God of Death that has made this ice cream. Why didn't you go for the Crone? Or the Warrior? Or even better... the Maiden?"

Brienne shrugged. "I think when you are doing depressing death stuff as part of your work dark, you probably need a hobby that brings a bit of light into your life. What better than ice cream making?"

"Decoupage," suggested Jaime, which made Brienne giggle, "or flower pressing or... _oooh_ what about knitting?"

"I swear this is heresy," chuckled Brienne, "you claiming the embodiment of death likes knitting in his spare time. The High Septon would lose his shit if he knew what you just said and maybe call you in for a Trial of Seven."

Jaime took another spoonful of ice cream, exploring all the ways he could defend himself. "Then I would claim one of the judges was against me, because it's him I was slandering, which would make the whole thing void."

Brienne nodded appreciatively, "you really are tricky, Mr Lannister, I'll give you that."

"Thank you," he smiled, performing a mock bow, "I appreciate the compliment, although I preferred it when you called me _sweet."_

At that comment, Brienne blushed in that splotchy way that Jaime found endlessly endearing. "Well... I... I... I think you can sometimes be sweet."

"Thank you, I enjoy it when you are nice to me," he teased, looking right into her eyes. For some reason, Brienne could not hold his gaze.

"I... I... I..."

"Starburst!!! What are you doing here?" came a great, booming voice than sounded as if it belonged to either Father Sevenmas or an operatic baritone.

Swivelling around on her chair, Brienne's mouth fell open in surprise. "Dad? Why aren't you back on Tarth?"

Jaime's eyes widened as he began to put this man into the mental image of all the stories Brienne had told Jaime about her childhood; learning to swim in the cove off Tarth, Sevenmas at Evenfall Hall, valiantly trying to save Galladon as the storm set in. This larger than life character, with his imposing height, salt-and-pepper hair, and Brienne-blue eyes, had not been what Jaime was imagining. Yet, even so, he screamed _Selwyn Tarth_ so loudly that he could not be anyone else. As Jaime stared bemusedly at Selwyn, Brienne's father came bounding forward, giving his daughter a broad grin. "My friend Big Mike is having a birthday party, so I decided to fly in for a few days. I was going to pop in and surprise you... but there's no need for that now, as you are here. Come on! Give your old dad a hug!"

For a few seconds, Jaime watched as Brienne pondered what to do; at the beginning of all this, they had agreed that Brienne would keep the pregnancy secret from her dad, lest he freak out at her unorthodox life choices. But now, confronted with him, it was clear she had little choice. "Hey Dad," she said uneasily, getting to her feet, "it's lovely to see you."

"You too starburst!" he cried, wrapping his arms around her. "I was going to come and see you... _oh."_

"What's the matter?" asked Brienne, her mouth pressed into her father's shoulder. Without waiting a moment, Selwyn Tarth pushed his daughter away while keeping hold of her shoulders. Having sensed something unusual, Selwyn's piercing blue eyes raked over her until they stopped quite suddenly on the very obvious baby bump.

"Starburst," he croaked, his voice rasping, "why didn't you tell me?"

Brienne went a perfectly ashamed red. "I... I... I..."

"I didn't even know you had a boyfriend!" squawked Selwyn. "Oh, your mother would be so excited..."

"Dad, I..."

"You should come back to Tarth before the birth; swim in the sea, go for a walk around the cove. You should bring your boyfriend too... the air is a lot clearer out there in King's Landing."

"Dad, listen, I..."

"Where is the boyfriend anyway? I would love to meet the man you are building a family with, even if you haven't prepared me for this eventuality. I..."

"Dad, will you just listen a minute?" Brienne interrupted; her voice strained.

Selwyn Tarth's expression softened. "Of course, starburst. What do you have to say?" Jaime could only watch, unsure of how to help as she took a deep breath and then her father with a sure gaze.

"There isn't a boyfriend."

Selwyn Tarth's smile slid off his face like a pancake slipping down a wall. He swallowed loudly, then took his eyes off Brienne to turn to Jaime, who was still munching on his Knickerbocker Glory. "Then who is this?" asked Selwyn, his eyes turning cold.

At that question, Brienne suddenly looked quite nervous, so Jaime decided to intervene to help her out. Getting to his feet, Jaime abandoned his ice cream and walked over to Selwyn, holding his hand out to shake. "Hi, I'm Jaime and I'm Brienne's Baby Daddy."

What followed happened so quickly that Jaime could barely keep track. Selwyn Tarth removed his hands from Brienne's shoulders, just as his expression changed from happy to shock to enraged. Before either Jaime or Brienne could do anything to explain, Selwyn had brought his elbow back, as tight as a bow and, on release, his fist went slamming into Jaime's jaw, sending him tumbling back against the black and white tiled flaw.

"Dad!" shouted Brienne, but Selwyn Tarth was barely listening. Rounding on Jaime, he shouted so loudly that everyone in the ice cream parlour was listening.

"HOW DARE YOU?!?!" he thundered. "HOW DARE YOU KNOCK UP MY DAUGHTER AND THEN NOT OFFER TO MARRY HER IMMEDIATELY?!?!?! SHE IS THE MOST WONDERFUL WOMAN IN THE WORLD!!! HOW DARE YOU TREAT HER SO POORLY?!?!?!"

Jaime wanted to say something, but when Selwyn had punched him, he had just managed to hold onto his teeth and now his lip was bleeding quite profusely.

 _I want some ice cream,_ he thought distantly.

"Dad!" shouted Brienne again, clearly outraged. "Stop! You've got the total wrong end of the stick!"

"WRONG END OF THE STICK?" bellowed Selwyn. "THIS MAN JUST HAD THE TEMERITY TO INTRODUCE HIMSELF AS YOUR BABY DADY AFTER YOU JUST TOLD ME YOU ARE SINGLE AND PREGNANT!"

"You are missing several vital pieces of information," whined Brienne, reaching up and holding her father's shoulder. "It's not what it seems."

Everyone in the ice cream parlour was now staring at them, but Selwyn did not seem to care. "TELL ME THEN!! WHAT AM I MISSING?"

Casting a look around her, conscious of _everyone_ watching, Brienne cleared her throat and then said quietly, "I am a surrogate for Jaime and his girlfriend's baby. Jaime is looking after me until the birth. He has been nothing but kind... and just bought me an ice cream."

Shocked and surprised, Selwyn Tarth looked from Brienne to Jaime and back again with his blue eyes, so reminiscent of his daughter's, that were suggesting his feelings of betrayal. "But Brienne..."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," gushed Brienne, desperately trying to fix things while Jaime dabbed at his mouth, worrying whether he had now been disfigured for life. "It's just... Jaime has given me money to be a surrogate. How do you think I was paying for your blood thinning pills for your heart condition? I quit my second job, and Seaworth's doesn't pay much..."

"Brienne..."

"I know you were expecting that the first time I would be pregnant was with your grandchild with a man I love, so I am sorry this is not what you expected, but it is what it is!"

"Brienne..."

She clearly could not stop rambling. "I am sorry I'm such a disappointing daughter, but I want to do this for Jaime because he is a good man and deserves to be a father. He deserves this piece of happiness because he has so much love to give, and I want to do this for him... I want..."

As Jaime was too busy gazing up at Brienne, marvelling at what a lovely thing she had just said to him, it took him a little while to register that Selwyn was no longer trying to interrupt Brienne, and was instead clutching at the centre of his chest. Before Jaime quite knew what was happening, Selwyn Tarth had fallen onto his knees, his eyes bulging, reaching out for something which wasn't there. Unlike Jaime, Brienne realised what was happening in an instant. "OH MY GOD!" screamed Brienne, her voice reaching the same decibels her father had only moments before, "HE'S HAVING A HEART ATTACK!" Even though his jaw was throbbing, Jaime clambered to his feet, and ran over to Brienne who was knelt down next to her father, panic in her eyes. "HE'S HAVING A HEART ATTACK, JAIME!" she shrieked. "YOU'VE GOT TO DO SOMETHING!"

"Of course," Jaime mumbled, pulling her close in a comforting embrace with one hand while he got his mobile out with the other. "I'll call an ambulance right now. Right now."

"Dad!"

"You need to stay calm, Brienne."

"Dad?"

"Listen, Brienne..."

"DAD?!?!"

* * *

Several hours later, it turned out that Selwyn Tarth was not, in fact, having a heart attack, but had just had an acute case of angina in reaction to his one-sided fight with his daughter's Baby Daddy and then her announcement that she was acting as a surrogate. Wanting to smooth things over, Jaime drove Selwyn back from King's Landing Hospital to his hotel, while Brienne sat beside him, nervously fiddling with the radio.

"I'm sorry for the chaos," said Selwyn, his loud voice booming around the car, "I didn't mean to make a scene."

"You did _punch_ Jaime dad," muttered Brienne, "that might be classified as making a scene."

Selwyn smiled wearily, even as Jaime rubbed his jaw. "Well, I am sorry about that. I just didn't have the full picture."

"I forgive you," said Jaime, smiling at Brienne, even as his lips started to swell up and a huge purple bruise erupted on his jawline, "your daughter means a great deal to me after all, Selwyn. We should be friends because, like you, I would never hurt her."

Selwyn did respond in some way to Jaime's conciliatory gesture, but Jaime barely heard, as he was too busy catching Brienne's eye, watching her as her cheeks flared up in a familiar blush because of his admission. It was so sweet - because as, unlike Jaime himself, Brienne genuinely _was_ sweet - that he found the colour reflected in himself. She just smiled at him sadly as Jaime parked up, then left him in the car so she could walk her dad back to his hotel.

 _I would do anything for her,_ he thought, watching her go.

_For Brienne Tarth._

That was why when they returned back to the apartment, Jaime felt no qualms in holding her in his arms as she sobbed the second they stepped across the threshold, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"I'm so sorry," she sniffed, as Jaime pulled her head down onto his shoulder, "I'm so _so_ sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry," replied Jaime, stroking her hair. "It's been an emotional day what with your dad, and the truth, and... the punching."

She spluttered into his shoulder. "I am sorry about that."

"Don't worry," he smirked. "It could have been worse, and perhaps I should have explained myself more clearly. So, if that's what you are upset about, don't be. I'm alright. In fact, I'm _fine_ apart from a little bruise."

She lifted her head to look at him, her blue eyes filled with tears. "Although I _am_ sorry my father behaved like a blundering oaf, it is not that I am sad about."

"What is it then?"

Brienne sighed. "It's just... I... I..."

Jaime moved his hand from her hair and onto her cheek, in a way he hoped was consoling. "What is it, Brienne? You are my platonic soulmate... maybe I can help."

For some reason, Jaime's statement just made Brienne's expression grow sadder. "It's just that."

Jaime blinked nervously, swallowing. "What?"

"My soulmate is with someone else, and I have no one," she said honestly, even as her voice began to quaver. Jaime started, trying to say something, but Brienne hushed him with her gaze. "It's not that I begrudge you it but... you saw my dad; he was so _disappointed_ that I didn't have someone, that my only chance in having a baby would be when I was renting out my womb for someone else. I'll never have a baby of my own."

"That's not true," insisted Jaime. "There's someone out there for you, I know there is, and he'd love to knock you up."

"Stop being sweet," she sniffed, laughing through her tears.

"I'm not, I'm being truthful," said Jaime, impassioned. "You are so kind and good. Someone would be lucky to be with you, lucky to be the father of your children."

"Kind and good," Brienne mused, "like that matters. Men like bitches, you said so yourself, and I am not a bitch... and then there's the fact of how I look."

Jaime furrowed his brows. "What's wrong with the way you look?"

To Jaime's surprise, Brienne looked disapproving at his genuine question. "Jaime... there's being sweet and then there's being delusional. I know what I am. I am ugly."

Jaime shook his head in disgust at her statement. Sure, Brienne did not have the perfect waist to hip ratio that Cersei did, or the glossy blonde mane, but she shone in a way Cersei never could. Brighter. Glowing. Iridescent. She did not need to have Cersei's superficial beauty, because Brienne had something more important; she had something wonderful that lived within.

"Who told you that?" he said softly.

"The world," she replied quickly, and he could tell from her expression that she believed it sincerely.

Then it was Jaime's turn to snort. "Well that's not true. Dickon liked you. Tormund liked you. Lance liked you. Hyle likes you."

"But Hyle and I talked for a while, and I..." As her voice dimmed in volume, her words trailed off. In the resulted silence, Jaime could only watch as a lightbulb went on in her brain. "Wait a second, how do you know about Lance?"

Suddenly realising he had well and truly put his foot in his mouth, Jaime began scrabbling around for an explanation that would make some sort of sense. "Oh... you must have told me about him. You were asking for dating advice. You... you..."

Knowing that what he was saying was coming across as the worst line in history, Jaime was not surprised when Brienne stepped back from him, removing her arms from around his waist and staring at him with her astonishing blue eyes. Only once she was gone did Jaime notice how cold he was.

"No," said Brienne slowly, "I didn't tell you about him. I was disappointed he had ghosted me and... oh _god."_

"What?" asked Jaime, biting his lip nervously.

"Lance Jannister," she said quietly, before repeating the name again. " _Lance_ Jannister. Lance _Jannister._ JAIME LANNISTER!"

Sighing at what an idiot he had been for going ahead with the stupid the Lance Jannister plan, Jaime saw no point in denying it, but at least made an attempt to justify his ridiculous actions. "Look, Brienne..."

"Was it some kind of sick joke?" she shouted, angry tears now rolling down her cheeks, "or are you just so controlling that you can't bear for me to have my own life outside you and this apartment?"

Jaime did not know how to defend himself against this accusation with words, so he reached out to grab her wrist, hoping his touch would console her. However, Brienne just shook him away. "Listen, I was just..."

"Do you know what?" she snapped, "I don't want to hear your excuses."

"But..."

As her rage overtook her, Brienne's beautiful eyes became alight with her anger, as bright as fire. "No! I don't want to hear it Jaime, or, I promise you, you will get punched for the second time today! I want to just go to bed!"

"Brienne," implored Jaime, trying to get her to listen. "Look, it was..."

"Do you know what I think?" thundered Brienne, "I think... on some level... you are _jealous_ that I am online dating!"

In spite of the fact he wanted to make things up with her, Jaime found that sentiment so funny he just sniggered derisively. "No I am not! I am with Cersei! I love Cersei!"

"Then stay out of my business!" cried Brienne, pointing one jabbing finger at him. "You've bought my womb for nine months, not my soul!"

And without saying another word, Brienne stormed away, leaving Jaime unsure whether she was more annoyed at him or Lance Jannister. However, once she had slammed her bedroom door - the sound reverberating around the apartment - Jaime's derisive amusement faded away and was replaced by a nervous fear. Before he could stop it, there was only one thought going around and around Jaime's mind.

_Am I really jealous?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks very much for reading! Please consider leaving comments and kudos to let me know what you think!


	13. Part XIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne prepares to go on her date with Hyle...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was later than anticipating, but it is the holidays so what did I expect! Christmas is NEVER a busy time of year! Anyway, I hope you enjoy :)
> 
> And thank you to Thedistressedgoddess for information on pregnant women roller-skating :D

After Brienne discovered that Jaime was Lance Jannister she just stopped talking to him.

_Lance Jannister, how did I even miss it?_

The silence continued to the following morning, even when he came over while she was eating her breakfast and tried to apologise. In response, Brienne just blanked him, retrieved her bowl of cereal and went to eat it in the privacy of her own bedroom. Thankful that she had her shift at Seaworth's through which she could effectively hide from him, when she came back home that evening, she brought a sandwich with her so she would not have to sit down and eat with him.

_How could he be so cruel?_ she thought. _Even if his feelings for me are not romantic, I thought we were friends. Why would he do this to me?_

She managed to keep the enforced silence up for a few days until one evening when, sitting in her room purposefully distant from her Baby Daddy, Brienne was interrupted by a knock on her door.

"I don't want to talk to you, _Lance,_ " she spat, keeping her eyes firmly on the wholly uninteresting book she was reading. "I have nothing to say to you."

To her surprise, a little chuckle reverberated through the door. "Fortunately for the both of us, this is not Lance. Would you mind opening the door and speaking to me?"

Recognising the voice instantly, Brienne let out a sigh, before getting to her feet and going to answer the door. When she did so, Tyrion Lannister was looking up at her with what he evidently thought was a charming smile on his face. "Ah Brienne."

"Hello Tyrion," said Brienne tersely, feeling a little uneasy that her colleague had now seemingly been dragged into her personal life by Jaime. "What are you doing here?"

Smiling roguishly, he gave her an ostentatious bow before standing up to his full height. "I come as a lowly emissary from my brother, who wishes to send his utmost apologies on bended knee for any upset Lance Jannister may have caused you."

Scowling, Brienne folded her arms just above her swelling belly. "You speak as if Lance and Jaime were different people."

"They are not, I confess," smiled Tyrion sadly, "but even so, Jaime wants to say sorry. He knows you don't want to speak to him, but he really _hates_ not speaking to you, so will you please at least give him a chance to explain? I promise, at the very least, he will look very pretty while doing it." When Brienne blushed at that statement, Tyrion gazed at her knowingly, a smile curling across his lips. "Please?"

Perhaps it was that Tyrion was actually good with words whereas Jaime liked to put his foot in this mouth, or that Tyrion had an excellent puppy dog expression but, whatever the reason, Brienne eventually let out a dramatic sign. Nodding, she allowed Tyrion to lead her back across the apartment to the living area, where Jaime was sitting on the sofa. The second Brienne and Tyrion approached, he leapt to his feet, an uneasy look in his eye. For a few seconds more, Brienne remained silent. She wanted to hear his apology, even though it was bound to be a poor attempt. Shuffling nervously, Jaime folded his arms across his chest. He was wearing a plain white shirt that was rolled up to his elbows, revealing his toned forearms. It made Brienne feel strangely weak.

Jaime's eyes were soft as he gazed at her, trying to come up with the best way to say it. Eventually, he managed to say, "I am sorry Brienne about... about Lance. My intention wasn't to hurt you."

At the mention of his online alter ego, Brienne's entire body stiffened. "What was your intention, then? Improve you game for when Cersei gets back?"

Jaime blushed at the accusation, and Brienne relished in the momentary power it afforded her; she was so used to feeling like it was him with all the cards. "No," he said gently, "that wasn't my intention at all. I would never use you like that."

"What was it then?" she asked again, her voice breaking on the word _then._ She had not meant to get so upset.

Perhaps in response to her reaction, Jaime stepped forward, unfolding his arms as he did so. "Never hurt you. Never hurt... _you._ I just... saw how self-conscious you were during the photoshoot and I know that those apps are full of dick-pick sending twats and I just... wanted there to be someone nice on there for you."

"Lance wasn't _nice_ ," Brienne parried quickly, making Jaime flinch. "Lance ghosted me. That wasn't nice."

Jaime sighed, and ran a hand through his perfect golden mane. "I'm sorry," he said, meeting her eyes with his, "I know that was a dick move. I just... didn't think you would ask me out. I thought after you found someone better than me, I could just fade away and you would forget all about it."

_Someone better?_ thought Brienne incredulously. _Someone better than by soulmate?_ Even though that idea was all that was whirring around her head, she did not say it.

"You didn't think _at all_ ," she snapped, "you hurt me, even if you didn't mean to."

To Brienne's surprise, Jaime looked downright tortured as he stepped forward, coming right into her personal bubble. Against her will, the hairs on Brienne's arm rippled as he did so, and it grew even worse as he looked at her, his gaze burning. "I'm _sorry_ ," Jaime said again, "and I know you deserve to find someone amazing. I wasn't trying to get in the way of that, I was just... being an idiot."

"You _are_ an idiot," she replied, the corner of her lips turning up in a smile. "A complete and utter idiot." At that small show of friendliness, Jaime locked her left hand with his right, a blush overcoming her at the closeness.

"I am," Jaime agreed, "and I am totally sorry. I don't want things to be awkward between us. We're friends and I want to keep it that way. So... can you forgive me?"

His tortured expression was so overwhelming that Brienne turned to Tyrion, who gave her an encouraging smile. "Jaime can sometimes be a dipshit," he said levelly, "but he never means things maliciously. He's got too much heart for that."

Turning back to her Baby Daddy, Brienne could see that his brother was telling the truth. Jaime just seemed so torn up about this situation that Brienne could not help but forgive him; she liked the silence between them as little as he did. "Okay," she sighed, as if this was some sort of great chore, "I forgive you, as long as you promise not to get entangled in my love life again. I'm entitled to one... away from you."

Jaime grinned at her, showing his dimples, which made Brienne's knees a little weak. "Of course," he smiled. "Anything. Of course you are entitled to your own love life and, as your platonic soulmate, I will support you in that."

Out of the corner of her eye, Brienne noticed Tyrion's eyes go very wide at Jaime's declaration that he was Brienne's platonic soulmate but, to forestall any questions, she just wrapped her arms around Jaime and held him close. "Good," she said, close to his ear, taking in the raw smell of his expensive shampoo and _him,_ "because if you try to get involved again, I will not be impressed."

"Anything wench," he mumbled. "Anything."

And just then, wrapped in his arms, Brienne allowed herself a moment to pretend that she had asked him just the opposite.

_Get involved in my love life, Jaime,_ she thought, _because we are soulmates, and it is only right._

She did not say it out loud.

* * *

Over the next few days, Brienne and Jaime's relationship got back to something approaching normal. As usual, he cooked for her and they would sit in the kitchen, laughing and joking together, and they would watch TV while he massaged her feet. It felt right. It felt good. It felt _them._

In fact, it was all perfectly wonderful until the day of Brienne's first date with Hyle. When Brienne woke up, she found Jaime in the kitchen, preparing her a fry up.

"You're keen," she smirked as she sat down at the table, Jaime serving the sausages directly onto her plate.

He shrugged. "You've got a date today. I want to be supportive."

When she took a bite of her breakfast, Brienne found it difficult to swallow.

"Oh," she said casually, even though it was strangely painful to see Jaime taking the prospect of her dating so lightly, "thanks, I suppose."

"I suppose?" repeated Jaime sceptically, sitting down beside her and loading up his own plate. "I thought you _wanted_ me to be supportive."

"I do," replied Brienne, "but I am not going on the date until this evening. Why does a fry up now constitute support for later?"

Jaime did not quite meet her eye as he scooped up his beans with his spoon. "Let me support you in my own way, will you?"

"Okay," replied Brienne, even as she felt a little uneasy.

As it turned out, her uneasiness at breakfast was prophetic as, during her shift at Seaworth's, Jaime sent Brienne close to ten thousand messages in preparation for her date that night.

_Jaime:_ What time is Hyle coming to pick you up?

_Brienne:_ Seven.

_Jaime:_ That's a little early, what are his intentions?

_Brienne:_ To go on a date with me. Not kill me.

...

_Jaime:_ Do you want to get him flowers? I can go pick you up some flowers, if you want? If that would be supportive?

_Brienne:_ Don't worry. I don't want to get him flowers.

_Jaime:_ Okay.

...

_Jaime:_ What are you going to wear?

_Brienne:_ Clothes.

_Jaime:_ You should wear blue. It brings out your eyes.

_Jaime:_ Or your leather jacket. You look hot in that.

...

_Jaime:_ I mean you look cool. Cool in that. Bloody autocorrect.

After that comment, Brienne totally turned off her phone because she could not take any more statements from Jaime that she could misconstrue into meaning something more than they did. In fact, she just sat behind the counter playing checkout girl, purposefully not thinking of Jaime Lannister and his attempts at being supportive, or his lovely eyes, or his cute dimples. Her mood was not improved when she had to sell a copy of _Cersei: Why I Am Great._

_Because you are lucky enough to have Jaime's devotion, Cersei,_ she thought bitterly. _That's why._

When she returned to the apartment that she shared with Jaime later that day, Brienne tried to sneak into her room and get changed. However, to her surprise, she found Jaime waiting for her, a concerned look on his face.

"Hello wench," he said, getting to his feet. "You never got back to me."

Brienne narrowed her eyes at him. "About what?"

"What you are going to wear tonight," he replied, a knowing smile on his face. "I know you said _clothes,_ but you've got to wear something that will make you stand out."

There was something about the intimate expression that Jaime was wearing that made Brienne feel rather uncomfortable, so she could not prevent herself from blushing. "We're going to _Greyjoy's Roller Rink,_ " she said quietly, trying to keep herself steady, "so it won't be anything too fancy. Just some jeans and a top."

At the declaration that she was going roller-skating with Hyle, Jaime gave her a firm look. "You are going roller-skating? What about turnip? You are pregnant!"

"I know," she replied, wanting to defend her position, "but I am a good skater. Apparently, according to the internet, my centre of gravity won't shift until later in my pregnancy. I'll be fine."

Jaime crossed the room, looking worried. "Was this Hyle's idea? Because if so, he's a dick."

"Yeah, it was Hyle's idea," said Brienne tentatively, not quite meeting Jaime's eye. "When we were at _The Iron Gate,_ I told him I used to go to _Greyjoy's Roller Rink_ and he thought it might be an idea if we go back as a couple. That doesn't make him a dick, though. It makes him sweet."

At her description of Hyle as _sweet,_ Jaime's expression turned stern and he stepped closer, resting his hands on Brienne's belly. In every place his fingers skirted across, her skin caught fire, in the way it always did when he touched her. She hated him for the power he had over her sometimes.

"It could be dangerous," Jaime said, concerned, "you could fall, you could hurt yourself, you could..."

Wanting to stop this situation getting out of hand, Brienne put her hands over his, causing Jaime to stop talking. "I'll be fine. I promise," she murmured, interlocking her fingers with his even as she fought an overwhelming urge to lean him and kiss him. His worried expression was just so darn adorable; it just _did_ things to her.

_It can never be,_ she reminded herself, _and I am going on a date with Hyle tonight._

_With Hyle. Not Jaime._

Needing to regain mastery of the situation, Brienne decided to try and put him back in his box, so declared, "remember, you said you were going to be supportive."

"Supportive," repeated Jaime, his voice husky. "I said I was going to be supportive and not get in the way of your love life."

"You did," she said.

At the confirmation of exactly what Jaime had promised, he dropped his hands from her belly, wearing a strange, unreadable expression. "Well then," he said, stepping backwards, "you best go get ready for your date with Hyle - who is _definitely_ not a dick - and I'll sit out here being supportive."

And, to her surprise, that was exactly what he did. Once Jaime was firmly ensconsced on the sofa, Brienne retreated to her bedroom, determined to find something to wear that would suit a first date. After much searching, she eventually settled on a pair of jeans, a blue vest-top and her leather jacket.

_Jaime said I looked good in blue; that it brought out my eyes. And that I looked hot in my leather jacket._

Completing the look with a splash of make-up, Brienne surveyed herself in the mirror.

_I might not compare to Cersei Marbrand,_ she thought, _but maybe I will be good enough for Hyle Hunt._

Brienne left her room just before seven and went out into the lounge. Jaime was still sitting on the sofa, watching a film. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see it starred Cersei - _The Pirates of the Narrow Sea_ \- where Cersei played the anachronistic pouting daughter of a Lysene merchant, who forgot her social class and married a blacksmith. However, when Brienne entered the room, Jaime turned it off and smiled at her.

"How do I look?" she asked, trying not to sound nervous.

His smile shone so brightly that it almost succeeded in knocking all the fear out of her. "You look..."

The doorbell rang before Jaime could finish, causing Brienne to sigh.

"That must be Hyle."

At Brienne's rather obvious statement, Jaime nodded, breaking eye contact with her, before turning back to the television and turning on _The Pirates of the Narrow Sea_ once more. "Indeed it must," he said stiffly, raising the volume up on the television and staring at it as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world.

Sensing the tension between them, Brienne tried to improve the mood by smiling falsely. "Are you going to wish me luck?"

At her question, Jaime turned to look at her, his eyes searching. They were such a beautiful green. After a few moments of awkwardness, he succeeded in arranging his face into a big, but slightly pained grin. "Good luck, Brienne. I hope you enjoy your date. I am... _supportive_ of you having a love life of your own."

_A love life that doesn't include you,_ Brienne thought sadly.

Unable to look at him anymore - he was being far too supportive of her endeavour to date someone other than her soulmate for her liking - Brienne turned away and went to answer the door.

_Hyle awaits._

* * *

During her first date with Hyle, Brienne had hoped that she would think about how to evaluate him as a potential boyfriend. Did they share interests? Was he tall enough to go out with a giant? Was there a spark? However, instead, all Brienne's mind was focussed on was the feeling of Jaime's hands on her belly as he fretted about whether roller-skating while pregnant was safe. When she had put Jaime's concerns to Hyle, he just waved his hand dismissively.

"Of course it is safe," he smiled. "And, if it wasn't, I am sure the people at _Greyjoy's Roller Rink_ will tell us."

On arrival at the Roller Rink, Brienne discovered that the overworked people on the front desk did not give two tosses about whether a pregnant woman was safe to whizz round their rink, as they willingly let her rent out a pair of skates. "We're good to go then," smiled Hyle, once they were over on the chairs by the entrance to the rink. Kneeling down to help her into her skates, which was a little difficult over the swelling baby bump, Hyle looked up at her and smiled. 

_His eyes are brown... they're the wrong colour,_ she thought. _I want my boyfriend to have green eyes._

Once Hyle had his skates on too, the pair of them went out onto the rink hand in hand. As it turned out, Brienne was the more confident skater than the two of them, so she had to hold Hyle's hand to keep him steady.

"If you walk like a duck, that's the way forward," she instructed, demonstrating how to glide by pushing off from one foot to the other. "It's easy. Why don't you try?"

Having watched her assiduously, Hyle did what he was told and eventually managed to propel himself around the rink with care, his arms held out either side of him for balance. Watching him, Brienne could not help but wonder if Jaime could skate.

"I did it!" Hyle grinned proudly when he finally managed to make his whole way around without falling. Evidently wanting to be close to her, Hyle reached out and grasped Brienne's hand. "You are such a good teacher."

Blushing profusely at the compliment, Brienne smiled. "Thanks... it's just I have been skating for years. I am glad I could be of help."

Sensing the effect he was having on her, Hyle drew back, a knowing look in his eye. "Come on Brienne. Why don't we go and get some food? I fancy a burger."

After returning their roller skates and paying for their time at the rink, Hyle and Brienne made their way around the corner to a nearby diner. As it specialised in greasy food, Brienne wasted no time in ordering a huge Quarter Pounder with fries, and mozzarella sticks. She did not know why, but she had been craving mozzarella since the beginning of her pregnancy.

_If only Jaime could see me now,_ she thought wickedly. _He takes such care to make sure I eat well, that he may kill me if he knew I was chowing down on a greasy burger._

As Brienne and Hyle waited for their food, they fell into an easy conversation about their lives; their friends, their work, and their hobbies. "Writing a thesis is a difficult process," said Brienne earnestly, just as their waitress brought over their food, "mostly because you become so obsessed with this weird niche topic that no one else can understand. It makes it quite solitary, so you have to consciously cultivate your social life."

"Have you succeeded?" asked Hyle, dipping a chip in the little pot of ketchup provided.

Brienne shrugged. "I like to think so. I go out with my best friend Sansa a lot and... Jaime has become a friend during this whole surrogacy process."

"Is that not a little awkward?" asked Hyle.

_More than you can imagine,_ thought Brienne.

"In what way?"

Hyle took a bite of his burger before coming out with it. "It's just... it must be hard being so close to him when you know that your relationship has an end date. I mean, you're going to pop the baby out in six months or so and then hand her over to Jaime and his girlfriend, who are then going to be super concerned with working out how to become parents. It won't be like how it is now."

"Jaime will still want to see me, though," insisted Brienne, even as she started to feel a little cold, "I know he will."

Sensing her upset, Hyle gave her a reassuring smile. "Oh yes, I'm sure that will be the case. It's just... your friendship will definitely change with the pressures of fatherhood on his part, and liberation on yours."

After the summation of her relationship with Jaime, Hyle's eyes suddenly seemed to be very probing, so Brienne tried to change the topic. "All relationships have an expiration date though, don't they? I mean, are you still in contact with your best friends from years ago? From your childhood?"

Hyle gave a brief consideration to her point. "I suppose not, but I _am_ still friends with my homeboys from the frat house; Ed Ambrose and Ben Bushy in particular. In fact, we're all going to a frat reunion party in a few months so, you never know, I might reconnect with some people I haven't seen for years."

"That sounds nice," said Brienne, before allowing Hyle to start reminiscing about his antics with his frat bros. However, she was barely listening, as panicked thoughts were starting to charge around her mind.

_Will I be able to see Jaime after turnip is born?_

_Will Jaime want to see me?_

_Will things never quite be as close as they are now?_

After dinner filled with worries and fretting, Brienne let Hyle give her a lift back to Jaime's apartment - _their apartment_ \- and he even walked her right up to the front door. As she turned to say goodbye, Hyle was wearing one of his crooked smiles.

"I had a great night, Brienne, I would like to see you again."

Brienne was so unused to men being interested in her, that she instantly returned his grin. "I would like to see you again too, Hyle."

"Great," replied Hyle, taking a step forward, "perhaps we could go to the cinema for our next date."

Brienne nodded. "That sounds fun, although... I have a request."

"What?"

"No Cersei Marbrand films," she smiled. "I'm carrying her baby. It would be too weird."

Hyle laughed. "Alright, deal."

It was only when words ran out between them that Brienne realised Hyle was standing very, _very_ close to her. During the silence, he seemed to sense the nearness too, as his cheeks reddened slightly before he lifted one hand and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

_Oh my god,_ thought Brienne, slightly panicked. _He's going to kiss me._

Seconds passed as Hyle came closer and closer, one hand resting on her hip. Bracing herself, Brienne tried to remember the few times she had kissed other people before and willed herself not to make a complete prat of herself. After a few moments of preparation, Brienne felt ready, so she leant forward, inviting Hyle to come closer. Sensing her acquiescence, Hyle mirrored Brienne, moving so their lips were inches away from a kiss...

Just then, the door of the apartment swung open to reveal Jaime, looking like a cartoon character with a storm cloud over his head. "Hey Kyle, are you the owner of the grey three wheeler parked outside the front of the block?"

Hyle blinked a few times, looking a bit dazed. "Err... my name is Hyle."

"Hyle... whatever," replied Jaime quickly, folding his arms. "Are you the owner of the grey three wheeler?"

Brienne narrowed her eyes at Jaime. "How can you see the cars parked outside the building? We're like fifty stories up."

"The security system," said Jaime swiftly, his eyes still on Hyle. "So, are you the owner of the three wheeler?"

"Yeah," replied Hyle, still looking a little confused.

"Well, you are parked on a double yellow. You are probably about to get nicked by the City Watch. I'd go and move it now; they are always skulking about this time of night."

Clearly terrified for his beloved car, Hyle started rooting around in his pocket for his car keys, before giving Brienne a casual smile. "I'll text you, okay?"

"Sure," Brienne replied, as Hyle turned away and began to run back towards the lifts, his worry palpable.

_Perhaps he'll try and kiss me next time,_ she thought distantly.

Once Hyle had disappeared from view, Brienne heard Jaime let out a breath of air that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle. Spinning around, Brienne turned to face him, staring at him firmly. Part of her thought he had interrupted with honest intentions, but her overwhelming belief was that Jaime had butted in on purpose. That suspicion was almost confirmed by his smug expression.

"Why did you do that?" she asked tersely, "he was about to kiss me."

Jaime smiled at her breezily. "Oh, was he? Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt."

"Then why did you?" she snapped.

At her question, Jaime looked positively gleeful. "I was just being _supportive,_ wench. I wouldn't want your new boyfriend to get a parking ticket."

And without another word, Jaime turned on his heel and went back into the apartment, looking entirely pleased with himself. Realising that he had just won a move in a game she had no idea they were playing, Brienne had little choice but to follow him back into the apartment, determined to get him next time.

_Let's see how supportive you can really be, Jaime,_ thought Brienne with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. As ever, I love comments and kudos (even if I take ages to reply to them) <3


	14. Part XIV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jaime is definitely not jealous...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, thanks for coming back! I hope you enjoy this chapter... just FYI, the end of this is a little NSFW!

After giving it some extended thought, Jaime had come to a considered conclusion based on an accurate weighing up of all the evidence at hand: he wasn't jealous that Brienne was online dating, just _concerned_ about her, that was all. She was his platonic soulmate and one of the best people he knew, so she deserved someone who would make her as happy as possible.

And if Jaime knew anything, it was that Hyle Hunt was not that man.

_What idiot takes a pregnant woman out to a roller rink on their first date?_ Jaime thought scathingly, as he sat down in front of his laptop with a pot of super noodles. Having hacked into the block's security system, Jaime had a good view of both the corridor immediately outside the penthouse, a rolling view of the staircase, and the exit and entrance to the entire building. It meant that he could watch in real time as Brienne and Hyle made their way down to his car, Hyle's hand resting on the small of Brienne's back.

"Bastard," Jaime muttered, taking a mouthful of super noodles as Hyle opened the door of his grey three wheeler for Brienne, like he was some sort of knight and she his lady. Although the image was not in colour, Jaime could imagine the way Brienne would blush at that small act of courtesy; blotchy and cute, obscuring her freckles.

Once Brienne and Hyle drove off, Jaime set his laptop up on the coffee table and switched on the TV meaning that, if she came back, he would be ready. Rather unsurprisingly, there was yet another showing of _The Pirates of the Narrow Sea,_ where Cersei played the pouty daughter of a Lysene merchant opposite Oberyn Martell's quirky (and perhaps slightly drunk) Dornish pirate king. Jaime only watched it for a few moments before turning over. If truth be told, he thought Cersei tended to play herself in most of the movies she was in, just with a little more hair flicking, yet got paid millions of dragons because she was beautiful. It seemed so unfair, because Brienne was actually doing ground-breaking research in her PhD that actually helped people, and she had been forced to resort to rent out her womb just to make ends meet.

Thinking of Brienne, Jaime switched over to a documentary she had on record about the psychology of love. It was presented by Doctor Shae Smith, and she talked through how real love was built on three important foundations: intimacy, passion, and commitment. Intimacy was the ability to be close and bonded, passion the raw sexual lust, and commitment the devoted loyalty of choosing to stay with one person in particular. During the ad-break, Cersei appeared in an a glossy commercial she had flown to Dragonstone to shoot, showing her running out on her wedding in order to fly free on a holiday with _Arryn Airways._ For some reason, it made Jaime feel a little uneasy, so he turned the TV off and went to have a bath.

Swirling his had in the water, it took him some time to get the temperature just right, but when he did, Jaime got into the bath quickly and set about scrubbing himself down. He knew he could be spending his evening in a more productive way than having a totally self-indulgent bath, but in that moment he didn't really care. Part of him thought he should ring Cersei - they had not spoken for a few days after all - but he found he just didn't have the energy.

_Sometimes, it would be nice if she phoned me,_ he thought bitterly.

Leaning back in the warm water, Jaime mulled over what it would be like if Cersei came home right now. He would get angry and tell her that he sometimes did not feel like she was committed to him or to the family they were building together.

_Doctor Shae Smith says the three cornerstones of love are intimacy, passion, and commitment. Although we have passion aplenty, we run a little thin on the other two sometimes._

Knowing Cersei, she would end up getting angry too, saying he did not understand her traumas, her problems, and that he made it all about him. She would scream and shout, before storming out of the apartment, bellowing she was going to spend the night at some exorbitantly expensive five star hotel while Jaime thought about what he really wanted. He would then have to stay alone in their nominally shared home, normally until he learnt the error of his ways.

Yet, tonight, it would be different. Brienne would come home from her date early because Hyle wasn't all he was cracked up to be, and she would see that Jaime was upset. Without saying a word, Brienne would know what was wrong - Cersei - and would sit down beside him on the sofa, holding him in her arms and stroking his hair. She would feel so warm and smell so good and he would...

_No,_ he thought, before splashing his face with rapidly cooling bathwater, _I can't go there. I can't._

Getting out of the bath, Jaime dried himself off, got dressed, and the returned to lounge, the security system, and the TV. Watching the grainy grey images on his laptop out of the corner of his eye, Jaime forced himself to watch the rest of _The Pirates of the Narrow Sea._ As Cersei exchanged sexy quips with Oberyn Martell and pretended to sword fight with a load of undead pirate zombies, it helped Jaime remember.

_I love Cersei. I love Cersei. I love Cersei. IloveCersei. IloveCersei. IloveCersei._

All things considered, _The Pirates of the Narrow Sea_ was an over long terrible film, as Varys had appropriately described it in _The Daily Whisperer_ , so it made Cersei's erstwhile boyfriend doze. Trapped in a state between waking and sleeping, Jaime had been taken back to the moment Cersei had read Varys' scathing review, lashing out at her boyfriend in the process. The next day, Jaime had noticed the bruises on his collarbone, but could not remember how he got them.

_I love Cersei. I love Cersei. I love Cersei. IloveCersei. IloveCersei. IloveCersei._

When he woke up, he saw that Brienne and Hyle had reappeared on security system, grainy and colourless in the footage. He had clearly missed them park up, because now they were walking up the corridor outside the penthouse.

Leaping to his feet, Jaime dashed to the door. All in the name of being supportive, of course.

* * *

After accidentally interrupting Brienne and Hyle's first kiss to prevent the latter from getting a parking ticket, Jaime thought that he would earn Brienne's anger once more. However, to Jaime's shock, for the next few days, Brienne did not seem furious but surprisingly... perky. One morning, Jaime got up to make her breakfast and found her already dressed, sitting at the table with her phone _giggling._

As he started to make the pancakes, he looked at her with interest. Catching his eye, Brienne gave him an out of character beaming smile. "Oh, I'm just texting Hyle. He's _so_ funny."

"Is he?" asked Jaime mildly, turning to the pancake mix in an effort not to see the way Brienne's cheeks flushed for Hyle. "He didn't strike me as the witty type."

"You barely spoke two words to him," scoffed Brienne, her eyes still on her phone. "He's nice."

"High praise indeed," chuckled Jaime, "nice. Every man dreams of being called _nice."_

Rolling her eyes at him, Brienne said, "well, I think nice is good enough. We're going to the cinema on Friday."

Surprised, Jaime snapped his head up. "You are?"

"Yes," she replied, smiling at him serenely. "Does that bother you?"

"No," he said quickly, turning back to the pancake mix.

"You sure?"

"Yep," he replied, popping the 'p'. "What are you going to see?"

Brienne shrugged. "I don't know yet. We haven't decided."

"What about _The Pirates of the Narrow Sea 2?_ I hear Raven Cinemas are doing a reshowing." _The Pirates of the Narrow Sea 2_ was the even shittier sequel of _The Pirates of the Narrow Sea,_ so Jaime thought it would be perfect for Brienne's date with Hyle.

"No thanks," chuckled Brienne, "I'm carrying Cersei's baby, you can't expect me to sit through one of her films too."

Jaime couldn't help but laugh at that, so he looked back up at her, smiling. "It's a fate worse than death, isn't it?"

Brienne cocked an eyebrow at him, almost teasing. "Are you trying to tell me that Cersei's films are crap?"

"Yeah, I..." He suddenly realised what he was saying. "No," he declared firmly, breaking their gaze and going back to the pancakes. "I love Cersei."

"That's not what I asked you," said Brienne gently.

Feeling her blue eyes boring into his skin, Jaime desperately tried to change the subject. "You and Hyle might want to pick the later showing on Friday, we've got to go to that _Preparing for Childbirth_ class."

Brienne furrowed her brow. " _We?"_

"Well," said Jaime lightly, stirring the mixture, "I saw the brochure and it said you needed your birthing partner there. I just assumed... I mean... if you want to take Sansa I won't be offended or anything."

"No!" interjected Brienne forcefully, before moderating her tone. "I mean, of course you can be my birthing partner. It's just... I thought you wouldn't want to."

Jaime lifted his eyes from the mixture, looking at her disbelievingly. "Of course I want to. I want to be with you every step of the way and make this as easy as possible for you. What you are doing for me is nothing short of the most generous thing anyone has ever done for me. I _want_ to be there with you."

At that comment, Brienne began to blush, but it was not the endearingly sweet flush of the cheeks that suggested she was embarrassed or flattered. It looked more like guilt. "You are paying me ten thousand dragons. It's not like I am doing it for love."

_For love..._

"Of course," he replied, wanting to look away but feeling unable to. "I don't expect you to love me, but I still want to be there for you, in any way I can. Is that alright?"

Brienne nodded a little stiffly. "That's fine."

"Good," Jaime smiled, before beginning to root around for a pan. He expected Brienne to smile, or speak, or even go back to giggling at her phone. Instead, she got to her feet and mumbled something inaudible about her bedroom. Her new position meant that, for the first time, Jaime saw them.

Her _shorts._

His opinions were out of his mouth before he had time to engage his filter.

"They're really tiny shorts," he observed, trying not to stare at the way the denim clung to her arse, nor all seventeen miles of her legs, nor the freckles peppered across them. Instead, Jaime made sure to look at her face, specifically her big, beautiful, blue eyes.

Shocked into life by his remark, Brienne gazed at him confusedly. "They're not especially tiny, it's just my legs are long."

"Yes, wench," Jaime agreed, purposefully looking back down at the pancake mixture once he realised what he had just said. "They _are_ long. Very long. And they are perfectly normal shorts."

Blushing profusely, she turned away from him, giving him a perfect view of her strong, well defined legs. "I've got to go and get something from my room," she said once more, dashing away as fast as she could.

She did not return until he called her to say the pancakes were ready.

* * *

To Jaime's disappointment, after that comment about her shorts, things returned to being ever so slightly off between him and Brienne until Friday, the day of the _Preparing for Childbirth_ class. When Jaime drove Brienne across the city to where the class was being held, she was being spectacularly uncommunicative, so he attempted to turn the radio on in order to block out the silence. It was an interview with Cersei about how filming for _The Sand Snakes_ was going.

Jaime instantly turned it off, preferring the silence.

When Jaime and Brienne arrived at the class, they were greeted by a rather striking woman with long red hair and a ruby at her throat. Jaime did not like the way her eyes flicked between him and Brienne, as if she knew or sensed something and, even worse, he thought her hand was unnaturally warm when she leant forward to shake his.

"Melisandre Asshai," she said, wearing an expression that could have been interpreted either as a smile or a frown. It took her saying her name for Jaime to put two and two together.

"Melisandre Asshai?" repeated Jaime, questioningly. "Did you write _Soulmarks and You: What it Means About Your Fate and Destiny?"_

Melisandre seemed pleasantly surprised when he asked that. "Yes, of course."

"Then why are you here running a pregnancy class?"

She smiled at him in a way that made Jaime feel like a stupid child. "I am interested in what bonds us, the light and the darkness. I've written about soulmarks, but what I am really interested in is childbirth. What moment in life wraps love, hate, death, despair, pain, shit, blood, filth, and joy better than when a mother pushes her child out from between her thighs?"

Sensing Brienne stiffening beside him, Jaime tried to give Melisandre an answer that made her think he wasn't totally terrified of her bluntness. "Good point."

"I know," she purred. "I've written books about it. Why don't the two of you go and find a mat? The mother and her birthing partner must share one."

Even as he nodded, Jaime felt Brienne's arm loop around his before he let her pull him away towards a mat. "Oh gods," she mumbled, "Melisandre is crazy. Literally crazy. Can we run away now?"

"No," he chuckled, glad Brienne was touching him and making jokes with him again. "We've paid for the class now. We'll have to endure it, if only for my wallet's sake."

When all the other women and their birthday partners had entered the room and were sat down on their mats, Melisandre closed the door, dimmed the lights, and went to put on some music. Well, Jaime was anticipating music, but instead it turned out to be whale song.

"What's going on?" whispered Brienne. "I thought this was meant to be a pregnancy class, not hippy-dippy rubbish."

Jaime had to suppress a little splutter of laughter. "Unfortunately, I think we are now trapped."

"Welcome," said Melisandre serenely, before walking across the room and perching on top of a yoga ball. "Welcome expectant mothers and their birthing partners, whether they be husbands, wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, mothers, sisters, friends, or any other configuration of human relationships."

"Or Baby Daddies," muttered Jaime, making Brienne giggle.

Melisandre gave him a sharp look, before turning back to the rest of the class. "Today, I will be taking you through the most important part of pregnancy and childbirth; being in tune with your body and recognising ways in which you can overcome your physical discomfort and pain. The night is dark and full of terrors, but it does not have to be that way if you just learn to breathe."

They spent the next ten minutes getting in tune with their bodies by breathing in and out together... _in and out..._ and the birthing partners were encouraged to listen for and copy the mothers inhaling and exhaling.

"A way to feel closer and more connected is for the birthing partners to sit with the mothers between their legs. It not only mimics the physical process of childbirth but allows the birthing partner to become more attuned to the mothers needs. Could everyone please get into that position now?"

While Jaime thought that sounded like a lot of New Age rubbish, he went to do what Melisandre suggested. Looking into Brienne's eyes expecting to see amusement, Jaime was surprised to discover a sense of fear lodged there. "It's okay, wench," he murmured, "I'm here to help." Even though his tone was reassuring, Brienne bit her lip nervously and Jaime could sense how awkward she felt when he tucked her in between his legs, her back inches from his chest.

_Melisandre was right,_ he thought, _I can sense her body a lot better like this._

"Now," breathed Melisandre, "I would like the birthing partner to reach around and take the mother's hands, so you can breathe together. _In and out... In and out..."_

Obeying her instructions, Jaime reached around Brienne. Placing his hands on top of hers, he threaded their fingers together. For some reason, Brienne's breathing went slightly out of kilter. Knowing it was important for him to get a greater sense of what Brienne's body was doing, Jaime shuffled forward and rested his head on her shoulder. As his chest was pressed into her back, it made it easier to mimic her breathing more accurately. "Don't worry," he whispered, "I am just trying to copy you better."

Although initially Brienne looked uneasy about that, after a few more minutes of breathing in and out together, she lifted their interlocked hands and placed them on her swollen belly. Jaime knew he was being ridiculous, but he could have sworn he could feel turnip's heartbeat.

"Now, we are all feeling closer to each other, I am going to teach you some massage techniques. These can be used both to soothe the discomfort of pregnancy and, some practitioners argue, even alleviate the pangs of childbirth."

As he was still resting his head on Brienne's shoulder, Jaime could feel her blush hot against his cheek. "It's okay," he murmured, "I'll only do what makes you feel comfortable."

"Okay," she replied, her voice so quiet it was barely a whisper.

For the rest of the class, Melisandre talked the birthing partners through how best to massage the mothers for the most intense pain relief. They started with neck and shoulder massages. Jaime made sure he was gentle as he pressed his thumb into the top of Brienne's spine, but he could not help but feel proud when she let out a little _mmm_ of gratitude.

"Do you like that, wench?" he asked, sincerely.

"Yes," she breathed, leaning into his touch, which only made Jaime work harder as he continued to follow Melisandre's instructions.

After the neck and shoulder massages, Melisandre taught them the exact way to rub circles into the mothers' lower backs to ease the pains of childbirth. From there, Melisandre asked everyone to have another session of breathing together, meaning Jaime wrapped himself around Brienne once more, his hands over her belly. In response, his Baby Mama skirted her fingers up and down his forearms.

_Mmm..._ he thought. _She smells so amazing..._

Holding Brienne like this was just so good and so nice, as nobody had touched Jaime like they cared in so long. During his last night with Cersei before she had gone to Dorne, she had ordered him around, shouting at him to be rougher, and then she wouldn't even hold him afterwards.

_Gods, if I took Brienne to bed, she would be so kind,_ he mused. Jaime knew she would kiss him like she meant it, want to talk to him afterwards, and wouldn't leap out of their shared warmth ten seconds after they finished because the deed was done and she was _busy_. He thought Brienne would like it slow, with lots of kissing, and wouldn't mind being on top, taking her pleasure from him and giving it in return without demanding _._ Although she might be a little innocent and nervous, Jaime also suspected that Brienne wouldn't think giving him oral sex once in a while was a waste of time or degrading, but a way of showing her affection for him, and he would reciprocate whole heartedly.

_Oh, I bet she tastes so good,_ he thought, as he continued to hold her close to him. _Gods, her thighs would be so strong, so suffocating, wrapped around my head, but I wouldn't care. And she would... and I would..._

Just then, Jaime tuned back into Brienne as she let out a little gasp that only he could hear. Opening his eyes, he leaned back slightly, still dazed, only to discover Brienne was staring at him, her blue eyes searching and scared. Knocked off kilter, Jaime looked at her puzzled, trying to work out why she looked so shocked.

When he realised, Jaime felt so sick his only option was to run.

"I have to go to the toilet," he stammered, scrambling to his feet before sprinting from the room, so fast it was as if he was being chased by an army of condemning ghosts. Ignoring Melisandre's confused look, Jaime dashed away, feeling so ashamed of himself that he just wanted to run from the building and never stop.

After all, anything was better than freaking Brienne out by continuing to push his erection into her back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I would love to hear what you think of this story in a comment or kudos :)


	15. Part XV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne deals with the aftermath of the birthing class...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, thanks for coming back for this chapter! This one gets the tiniest weeniest bit NSFW at the end of the chapter, but not by much. I hope you enjoy!

"He WHAT?" bellowed Sansa down the phone, seemingly not worrying that she was shouting and it was making Brienne's phone vibrate.

"Shhhhh!" pleaded Brienne, trying to keep her voice as low as possible. "He might come back any minute."

In truth, Brienne wasn't entirely sure where Jaime had gone, so he could feasibly be absent anywhere between ten minutes and four days. After the _incident_ at the birthing class, Jaime had driven them both back to the apartment in deathly silence. Brienne had been so confused, as he had refused to look at her, and turned the volume on the radio up to one hundred in order to build a wall between them. When they had finally arrived at their shared home, Jaime mumbled something about needing to go out and that he would see her later. Feeling too nervous to question him, Brienne had jumped out the car without a second word, returned to the apartment, shut herself in her room, and then rung Sansa for some goddamn help.

"Good," replied Sansa firmly, "because he definitely needs to give you some answers after that."

"No he doesn't," sighed Brienne. "It probably has a perfectly reasonable explanation."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line before Sansa spoke, her tone sarcastic. "Oh yes, I'm sure there was is a _totally_ acceptable reason as to why Jaime got a boner in the middle of a birthing class and then ran out and didn't come back for half an hour."

"I'm sure there is," replied Brienne, a little annoyed that Sansa was not taking this seriously.

"Like what?"

"Erm..." said Brienne, mulling on what gave men boners for the first time in her life; she was no expert after all. "I hear they sometimes get random boners."

"Who is _they?"_ asked Sansa.

"You know. Men. The males. The Y-Chromosomes. _Them."_

"Okay..." replied Sansa slowly, obviously perturbed that Brienne was talking about men as if they were an alien species. "But random boners are only random when there is nothing to stimulate them. By the sounds of it, during the birthing class, Jaime was getting plenty of stimulation."

"By what?" asked Brienne, shocked.

Sansa sighed dramatically over the phone, so loud that Brienne briefly imagined she could feel her friend's exhaled breath. "By the fact he had his arms around his pregnant Baby Mama who happens to be his soulmate, and by the sounds of it he was positively nuzzling."

"There was no nuzzling involved," insisted Brienne, even though she knew there had at least been a tiny bit of nuzzling. "He was probably daydreaming, not thinking about me at all. Most likely, he was musing on _Cersei_ , his girlfriend, the most beautiful woman in the world, who he wishes he could be at the birthing class with instead of me."

"Oh yes," replied Sansa swiftly, "most likely he was thinking about his girlfriend thousands of miles away in Dorne rather than the real flesh and blood woman he had just massaged and was then snuggling with."

"It wasn't snuggling..." Brienne tried to protest meekly, but it was too late as Sansa was on a roll.

"Brienne, I know your self-esteem is shit, but there is being self-deprecating and there is missing the bloody obvious. Jaime got a boner because he was with _you._ "

"Maybe it was a platonic boner..."

Sansa let out a splutter of laughter. "Just listen to yourself! You literally just said the phrase _platonic boner._ That makes no sense. However, what _does_ make sense is that Jaime got a boner because he was pressed up against you."

It was almost too incredible to be true. "But... but... he has _Cersei._ He was surely thinking about her."

"Who is on the other side of the continent."

"She's a beautiful movie star."

"On the other side of the continent," said Sansa again, the frustration palpable in her tone. "Brienne, please stop denying the most obvious explanation for all this; that your presence caused Jaime to get aroused."

At that statement, Brienne let out a shocked gasp. It was one thing using the vaguely comical term _boner_ in relation to what had happened in the birthing class, quite another to say that Jaime had been _aroused._

_He wouldn't feel that for me,_ Brienne told herself. _He's beautiful and charming, while I am... me. It is just not possible._

"Sansa, please don't say that."

"Why not?" asked Sansa, sounding positively baffled. "It's the truth."

"You don't know that," replied Brienne, "and, anyway, even if it were... what difference does it make? He is with Cersei. I am carrying their baby..."

"You are his _soulmate,"_ said Sansa firmly.

"It's a very complicated situation in which _that_ is perhaps the simplest thing," whined Brienne, resistant to letting Sansa talk her into believing a fairy tale. "Jaime has made it clear many times that he loves Cersei and will choose her before me so, even if he did have a momentary lapse of judgement in the birthing class and was thinking of me and not Cersei, it still doesn't matter."

Brienne could almost hear Sansa rolling her eyes. "Brienne! Listen to yourself! Why are you not fighting for this? Fighting for him?"

Scoffing, Brienne shook her head. "Because I don't want to be a homewrecker, Sansa. Jaime and Cersei have chosen to have a baby together; it's only by pure accident that I am involved."

"It is _not_ pure accident," insisted Sansa, "it's written in the stars."

Even though she did not want to upset Sansa, Brienne could help but sigh. Once, when she had been much younger, she had dreamed that her soulmark indicated there was someone made specially for her, who she could love and cherish as part of some destined romance. However, as a teenager, reality of what she was had hit Brienne like an out of control car, and now this situation just seemed to prove her rotten luck. Her soulmate loved someone else and was just content with being her friend. Therefore, the idea that Jaime had been aroused by her at the birthing class did not make her hopeful, just sad. It was better to believe that he had been thinking of Cersei.

"If anything is written in the stars, it's my date with Hyle. He's coming to pick me up in half an hour."

Sansa gasped on the other end of the line. "You are still intending on going? Even after everything that has happened with Jaime?"

"Yes," said Brienne resignedly. "With him, I have the chance for something simple. Something normal. And with Hyle, I don't have to try and prize him away from a wonderfully famous, talented, and beautiful girlfriend who I could never compete with."

"None of that matters," replied Sansa, exasperatedly. "Stop comparing yourself to other people!"

Brienne sighed again. It was so difficult for Sansa to imagine what it was like being genuinely unattractive that Brienne almost couldn't be bothered to explain. "But that is what Jaime is probably doing every time he looks at my face; comparing Cersei and me. It therefore just makes sense for me to do the same, to acknowledge the fact that she is beautiful, and I am ugly." Sansa tried to interrupt, but Brienne cut her off. "It's a fact, Sansa; a cruel and unfair fact, that I've had to live with every day of my life, but a fact, nonetheless. Therefore, comparison makes sense, in the same way it makes sense for me to compare Jaime and Hyle. Yes, with Hyle, perhaps I won't feel the same sense of... _fitting_ like I do with Jaime, but with him there is actually a chance for a relationship rather than never ending pining."

"Is that what you feel for Jaime?" asked Sansa, her voice suddenly tender, "never ending pining?"

"I'm sorry Sansa," replied Brienne, adopting her friend's tone in her quest to not answer her question. "I've got to get ready for my date with Hyle."

* * *

Fortunately, Jaime did not show his face back at the apartment before Hyle came to pick up Brienne for their date. She found that an immense relief, as she was struggling with what she would actually say to him when they came face to face once again.

_I'm sorry if I accidentally gave you a boner. If you had been able to see my face, surely you would not have._

_Don't worry about the boner, I know you were thinking of Cersei._

_I know you love Cersei, Jaime, it's fine. We don't need to talk about this._

As she got into Hyle's grey three-wheeler outside the front of the apartment block, Brienne could not help but notice that Hyle was looking at her strangely. "Is everything alright, Hyle?" she asked.

"Yeah, fine," he responded nonchalantly. "It's just... you look a little..."

"What?"

"Sad."

Brienne swallowed in an attempt to keep the lump that was blooming in her throat at bay. "I'm fine, I promise. Shall we get going? I would like to go and get some popcorn before the film starts."

"Okay," replied Hyle, not probing any further as he revved up the car.

In spite of her best efforts, on the journey to the cinema, all Brienne could think about was how it had felt to have Jaime wrapped around her at the birthing class, her back against his chest, their hands interlocked on her belly, as if they were a real couple having a real baby. Jaime had smelt so nice and felt so good, and he held her like he cared. No one had touched Brienne that way in years. 

Those thoughts were still haunting her when they arrived at the cinema and discovered that the tickets for the Arthur Dayne flick that they had planned on seeing were all sold out, so they were forced to commit to a slightly crappy action film staring Arys Oakheart. They were about a quarter of the way through the film when Brienne discovered that the pouting, self-obsessed implausible nuclear physicist love interest was played by none other than Cersei Marbrand herself, in all the blonde beauty that Jaime adored. The sight of her made Brienne quite sick.

"Oh, I'm sorry," muttered Hyle, slinging an arm around her shoulder. "I didn't realise Cersei was in this."

"It's okay," replied Brienne, before stuffing a handful of popcorn into her mouth and forced herself to focus on Cersei's unrelenting loveliness. "It's okay."

_How could he ever care for someone like me when he has her?_ Brienne thought, as Arys saved the President from the terrorists and then kissed Cersei within an inch of her life. _Why would Jaime even look at me twice? In comparison, I'm barely a woman; more like a man, or a troll, or even something inanimate like a potato._

_I have no chance at all._

Once the film was finished, Hyle and Brienne left the cinema, weighing up the artistic merits of what they had just seen; Hyle thought it was a perfectly serviceable action flick, while Brienne had decided it left a lot to be desired. The debate kept going all the way back to the apartment, and even when Hyle parked the car outside on the double yellow lines and they continued to discuss it.

_Focus on the film and Hyle,_ thought Brienne as Hyle rambled on about the quality of the stunts, _and not what you might have to face when you go back inside._

Drawn into her worry, Brienne hardly noticed she had stopped talking until Hyle smiled at her. "Brienne, I had a lovely time tonight," he said, his brown eyes shining.

"Yes," Brienne agreed. "So did I."

"Good, I'm glad to hear," replied Hyle, the corners of his eyes crinkling as his grin grew. After that declaration, Brienne thought there was a sense of hesitation from Hyle that she had not witnessed before. She wondered what had caused it.

_Hyle's a nice guy,_ Brienne mused. _He's not Jaime, granted, but he's nice. He's not a sex god like Jaime, but he's nice. He's not my soulmate like Jaime, but he's nice. Maybe he's just nervous, because he's not confident like Jaime is. He's just... nice._

"Well," Brienne said quietly, reaching down and unplugging her seatbelt, "it's nearly half-past ten. I really should think about going."

Hyle's cheerful expression faltered. "Oh, wait one moment."

"What is it?" she asked, searching his face for an answer to her question when he did not supply her with an answer. When he continued to not respond with words, Brienne worked out what Hyle wanted; a kiss. In the lingering silence, her date moved almost imperceptibly closer, his eyes fixed firmly on hers. Knowing what was expected of her, Brienne moved forward too, reaching out to kiss him.

_If I can't kiss Jaime, it is only right that I kiss someone,_ she thought.

Brienne was just about to close her eyes and dive right in for her first kiss with Hyle when he halted the forward moving momentum, his eyes snapping open. "What is it?" Brienne asked again, this time confused as to why he had stopped.

"The light," Hyle responded, reaching up to turn off the little overhead light that kept the small car illuminated. "Things will be better in the dark."

Before Brienne could ask him why Hyle wanted to kiss her in the dark, he smashed his lips against hers and grabbed her shoulders, all teeth, lips and tongue. Taking a few moments to react properly, Brienne hovered in a place of stunned surprise before meeting his tongue with her own, determined to make this a good kiss.

_I wonder what it would be like to kiss Jaime?_ she thought, her mind wandering far away from the darkened car and Hyle. _Would he let me run my fingers through his hair? Would he let me run my hands over the muscles of his back, his shoulders, his arms? Would he take his shirt off? Would he wrap his arms around me? Would he get hard again? Oh, why didn't I turn around and kiss him? Why didn't I...?_

Lost in thoughts of Jaime, Brienne gasped in suprise when Hyle sprang away from her at the sound of a knock on the window, his eyes wide. Following his gaze, Brienne turned around to look at what he was staring at, only to discover that the abominable Jaime Lannister was peering through the window, looking a little pale.

_Oh shit,_ thought Brienne.

"What does he want?" asked Hyle, annoyed.

Brienne shrugged. "I don't know. Why don't you roll down the window and ask him?"

After Hyle had performed her eminently sensible suggestion, Jaime gave no time for either of the occupants of the car to ask him questions. Instead, he just stared at Hyle firmly, almost aggressively. "You'll get a parking ticket if you stay here," Jaime said, his tone biting.

"What if I don't care?" replied Hyle, uncharacteristically annoyed. At the caesura in his sentence, Hyle cracked his knuckles. "Brienne and I are having a good time. We were just discussing the film we went to see."

"Sure you were," countered Jaime, disbelievingly. "Doesn't change facts though. You'll get a parking ticket if you stay here."

At Jaime's bluntness, Hyle puffed himself up importantly. "What if I don't care...?"

"Hyle," interrupted Brienne swiftly, not wanting to be caught in the centre of a fight. "I don't want you to get a ticket either, so maybe you should just go."

"Go?" repeated Hyle incredulously, turning from Jaime to Brienne. "But what about...?"

"I'm sure we can finish next time," Brienne said, trying to sound warm and as if she was excited by the prospect. She did not want to scare her only chance at a happy ending away. "I'll text you, yeah?"

Sensing that he was defeated, Hyle let out a little sigh. "Okay, I'll message you later. Maybe we can go for a walk along Blackwater Bay next week?"

"Sounds fun," she replied, before leaning forward and kissing him on the cheek, just as he would have expected of her.

"Okay, Brienne," said Hyle resignedly, as she let herself out of the car. Once she was free of the darkened car, Hyle turned the radio on. "I'll see you later."

"Yes. Goodbye," Brienne responded, watching as Hyle rolled up the window once more and began to drive down the road. She kept her eyes fixed on the grey three-wheeler until it disappeared around the corner; it was not because she was so intent on gazing at Hyle until the last possible moment, just that she did not want to look at Jaime, still standing next to her with all the presence of an angry minotaur.

As she continued to stare out at the road, Brienne put all the onus on Jaime in starting the conversation. Eventually, he found the courage to speak. "Wench, I..."

"What, Jaime?" she interjected in annoyance, turning around to gaze at his stupidly beautiful face. "You could see that Hyle and I were _busy_. Why did you interrupt?"

This time, it was undeniable. Jaime's eyes did acquire a strange intensity she only associated with romantic leads in movies. "We need to talk about the birthing class."

Brienne gulped nervously. She had not expected him to broach the subject so directly. "What about the birthing class?" she asked stupidly, trying not to imagine the feel of his cock hard against her back.

"We need to talk about the fact I got aroused, wench," he said, his voice so quiet only Brienne could hear it. "We need to talk about the fact I got aroused... by you."

_Oh._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As ever, I am a sucker for comments and kudos. I love to know what you think of this story!


	16. Part XVI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime panics after the birthing class...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone, and thanks for coming back for the next chapter of this story!
> 
> Now, this chapter gets a tiny bit NSFW towards the end, you have been warned.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

There was only one reason that Jaime had fled from the birthing class and hid in the toilet for half an hour, refused to talk to Brienne all the way home, and then basically shoved her out the car without so much as a goodbye before speeding over to Tyrion's place as if he were in the Storm's End Grand Prix.

It was called panic.

 _I've ruined everything,_ he thought madly. _I freaked her out. I alarmed her. I saw the look on her face._

_What the fuck was I thinking?_

_Why did I let myself go there?_

When Jaime arrived at Tyrion's house, he parked up as quickly as he could before dashing to the front door and hammering on it a little bit too furiously to sound casual. "Woah, calm your shit," came Tyrion's voice from inside. "I'm coming!"

The second his younger brother opened the door, Jaime wasted no time bowling into the house, not noticing Tyrion was holding a can of beer and wearing a _Lannisport Lions_ shirt.

"Oh gods, Tyrion, I fucked up. I fucked up bad."

"Jaime, I..."

"I don't even know what to do, because this is a disaster, a _disaster._ I am meant to be in love with Cersei Marbrand, the most beautiful woman in the world. People would kill to be in my place, kill to be with her, and yet I'm going to birthing classes and... and... oh I've fucked up so bad."

"Jaime, you are rambling," interrupted Tyrion, "why don't you come and have a beer...?"

"But this is a disaster, Tyrion! Because Brienne... _Brienne..._ I was thinking about Brienne in _that way._ Why was I thinking about her in that way? I've got Cersei! I'm having a baby with Cersei and... oh gods I've fucked up."

"Right, I've had enough of this," interrupted Tyrion suddenly, shoving the can of beer into Jaime's hand. "You are going to come and sit in the lounge, drink that beer, and tell me what is going on in an orderly and calm fashion so I can assertain whether or not you have _fucked up,_ as you so eloquently put it."

Jaime let out a burst of bitter laughter, "you are such an academic."

"Well, why don't you come through to the lounge and let me analyse you?"

Knowing his brother's medicine would be tough but fair, Jaime gave Tyrion a stiff little nod and then followed him through to the lounge. He was ready to talk this out properly; all the things he had been pushing away, all the things he had been denying, but on entering the lounge he realised Tyrion was not alone. The football game between the _Lannisport Lions_ and the _Skagosi Swordsmen_ was playing on the TV so, consequently, the two biggest _Lannisport Lions_ supporters that the Lannister brothers knew were sprawled out on the sofa drinking beer. They were Bronn Blackwater and Addam Marbrand.

"Whey!" cried Bronn the second he saw Jaime. "Are you here to watch the game?"

Jaime went to respond but, before he could, Tyrion flung himself down in the armchair and stole Jaime's words from him. "No, he's here to tell us all why he's fucked up."

"Oooh, fuck ups," grinned Addam, grabbing another beer. "I love fuck up stories. Sit down Jaime and tell us... what have you done?"

Knowing he needed to get this all off his chest as soon as possible, Jaime sat down next to Addam on the sofa, downed his beer, and spilled the whole sorry tale, right from the beginning. He told them about his desire for a baby with Cersei, and her wanting a surrogate, and how that led to finding Brienne with whom he had just instantly gelled. He told them about the discovery of their matching soulmarks and that they had decided they were platonic soulmates, best friends who complimented each other perfectly. He told them all the reasons why Brienne was funny, bright, engaging, kind, interesting, loyal, humble, and downright magnificent, before informing them of the fact he had majorly insulted her by fantasising about going down on her and then getting an erection during a birthing class.

"So, you see, I've totally fucked up," concluded Jaime, before cracking open another beer, "completely, utterly fucked up."

Addam stared at him confusedly. "It doesn't seem like you've fucked up to me."

"No?" asked Jaime, glugging more beer, "then what does it sound like to you?"

Bronn snorted, "it sounds like you want to get it on with the surrogate... unless you are going to tell me that it was a platonic boner."

"Bronn!" squawked Jaime, horrified at his use of such vulgar language as _getting it on with the surrogate,_ "you can't say shit like that! I respect Brienne; can you please be respectful of her too?"

Rolling his eyes, Bronn went to say something back, but Addam cut across him. "What I think Bronn is trying to say is that it sounds awfully like you are in love with Brienne."

A silence so profound followed that statement that Jaime wondered if he would ever hear sound again. In his shock, he nearly dropped his can of beer. "What?"

"Did I say something incredible?" asked Addam with a laugh, noting Jaime's expression, even while the latter reeled from what the former had just suggested, and Tyrion and Bronn exchanged amused glances.

 _Am I in love with Brienne?_ Jaime thought, feeling nothing but an intractable numbness. _Oh fuckety-fuck_ , _am I in love with Brienne?_

"I think it is just incredible to Jaime, as the thought has not occurred to him before," said Tyrion gently, giving everyone assembled a small smile, "but it's occurring now, so we should all sit, wait, and talk amongst ourselves for a few moments until it sinks in."

Not liking that Tyrion was making light of the situation, Jaime declared, "but I can't be in love with Brienne, I just can't!"

"And why is that?" asked Tyrion.

"Because I'm in love with Cersei!" he said, trying to focus on his golden haired, green-eyed girlfriend who suddenly appeared to be a little blurry in his mind's eye. "Cersei Marbrand, you know, the woman who is often proclaimed to be the most beautiful woman in the world. I'm in love with _her."_

"Oh yes," said Tyrion sarcastically, "her, the one who is currently thousands of miles away in Dorne leaving you to deal with the whole surrogacy issue. That Cersei."

Jaime scowled at his brother. "Hey, Cersei is one of the most sought after actresses in the world, she can't just drop her whole career to facilitate every stupid whim of mine."

"I'm not sure having a baby together is what you would call a _stupid whim,_ Jaime," said Tyrion firmly. "This should have been an important decision you made with Cersei, but somehow you've ended up experiencing it with Brienne."

At that statement, it was as if a lightbulb went on in Jaime's brain. As the realisation set in, Jaime felt his whole body relax, and the panic begin to drain away. "Of course!" he smiled, exhaling in relief, "that explains everything, Tyrion!"

Tyrion looked at him confusedly. "What explains everything?"

"What you just said," sighed Jaime, before drinking another sip of beer. "I miss Cersei, I _love_ Cersei, and because I'm doing all the things that I should be doing with Cersei with Brienne instead, I'm getting confused and putting all these awkward sexual feelings on her."

Tyrion narrowed his eyes at his brother, "that's not what I meant..."

"Oh, thank the gods!" sighed Jaime dramatically.

At Jaime's outburst of relief, Tyrion, Bronn, and Addam all stared at him blankly. "I still think you want to get it on with the surrogate," said Bronn, looking at Jaime as if he were a small child who had just asked a stupid question.

"No, you are wrong," replied Jaime, almost singing at how relieved he was that he had not just gone and turned this complicated situation into a _really_ complicated situation. "It's just that Brienne is a friend, a platonic soulmate type friend with whom I've experienced real intimacy with by living with her over the last few months, and we are both so committed to each other and making this baby work for Cersei and me. Yes, I got a boner thinking about her, but that's just because I was holding her in my arms and feeling so warm and connected."

"Jaime, would you just listen to yourself?" asked Tyrion exasperatedly. "You got a boner thinking about the woman you've just been gushing about for the last hour, who also happens to be the woman you share a soulmark with. I know this is a complicated situation with Cersei, Brienne, and the baby, but there really is no point in denying your feelings just to make your life easier. Face the hard stuff, and just get on with it."

Jaime drank more beer. "But I'm not denying anything. It's all as you said; I want to do all these things with Cersei but, as she's not here, I'm getting all confused and putting it all on Brienne. I just know that if Cersei came back from Dorne today, all this stuff I've been feeling for Brienne would just disappear, because I would have the real thing back."

"Jaime," said Addam as Tyrion held his head in his hands in frustration, "I don't think that sounds right..."

"Oh, it is, don't you worry," grinned Jaime, pushing away all the fear and terror about the life he had fixed on not being the one he really wanted. "Come on. Let's have a few more beers and watch the game. I've got my head clear. I don't need to talk about Brienne anymore."

* * *

In the end, Jaime drunk much more than was strictly advisable during the game and, once it was over, had to order a taxi to take him back to his apartment as he was in no fit state to drive. When Tyrion went to say goodbye to his brother, he fixed him with a firm look.

"I work with Brienne and I know she is a very sensitive girl, so you've got to give her an explanation for all this that is not cruel and doesn't make her feel bad."

"Of course I will," replied Jaime. "She's my best friend. I'd never hurt her."

"Good," said Tyrion, a little stern, "just make sure you do. She deserves that from you at the very least."

"Alright brother, will do," smiled Jaime as he got into the taxi, waving one final time before the taxi left Tyrion's house.

The whole way home, only one thought went through Jaime's slightly fuzzy head.

_I love Cersei. I love Cersei. I love Cersei. I love Cersei. I love Cersei. I love Cersei. Don't I? I love Cersei. I love Cersei. I love Cersei. I love my Baby Mama. I love Brienne. I love Brienne. I love Brienne. I love Brienne. I love... I love... I love..._

By the time he got home, Jaime didn't really want to think anymore, so he went upstairs in search of beers. Part of him was expecting Brienne to be at the apartment, but then he remembered she had a date with Hyle.

 _Stupid Hyle,_ he thought, as he got another six pack of beer out of the fridge, _doesn't deserve her. I bet he's an ignorant jock who doesn't appreciate how gentle she is, how kind she is, how wonderful she is._

Retreating to the sofa with his beers, Jaime whacked the TV on and put on some inane late night shows. Once that was set up, he turned to his laptop and set the security system up so he could watch for when Brienne and Hyle returned home.

 _Stupid Hyle,_ he thought as he stared at the grainy recording rather than the colourful late night chat show on the TV. _I wonder what she sees in him._

After Jaime drank far too many beers for what was appropriate when sitting alone in his lounge on a Friday night, the familiar grey three-wheeler pulled up outside the apartment block. Puffed up on alcohol, Jaime leapt out of his seat and dashed out to the lift, propelled by the desire to reassure Brienne that he wasn't some creepy pervert who salivated over her, it was just that he was missing Cersei and had got really, really confused boner when he held his Baby Mama in his arms.

By the time Jaime got down to the road, he could see that the light in Hyle's car had been turned off. However, it could not hide what was going on inside; Hyle and Brienne were kissing, his hands clutching her shoulders.

 _Stupid Hyle,_ thought Jaime, this time internally spitting the name with all the thunderous anger of a furious god. _Why is Brienne kissing him of all people?_

Annoyed, Jaime marched up to the car and knocked on the window, determined to break up this display of public indecency. After a few moments of confused chatter, Hyle leant across Brienne to roll down the window. He looked as if he was going to say something, but Jaime cut across him. "You'll get a parking ticket if you stay here."

"What if I don't care?" replied Hyle a little aggressively, cracking his knuckles as he did so. "Brienne and I are having a good time. We were just discussing the film we went to see."

"Sure you were," said Jaime disbelievingly, trying not to look at his wench who was staring at him with those judgemental blue eyes of hers. "Doesn't change facts though. You'll get a parking ticket if you stay here."

Jaime's tone seemed to really wind up Brienne's paramour, as he puffed himself up ready for a fight. "What if I don't care...?"

"Hyle," interrupted Brienne firmly, clearly not wanting to witness a tussle. "I don't want you to get a ticket either, so maybe you should just go."

Jaime couldn't help but feel an immense pleasure at the way Hyle's face fell. "Go? But what about...?"

"I'm sure we can finish next time," Brienne said, giving him an awkward smile. "I'll text you, yeah?"

Hyle sighed, clearly defeated, leaving Jaime to feel as if he had just slayed a monstrous foe. "Okay, I'll message you later. Maybe we can go for a walk along Blackwater Bay next week?"

"Sounds fun," Brienne replied, as if that didn't sound very fun at all, before leaning in and kissing Hyle on the cheek.

 _Stupid Hyle,_ Jaime thought as Brienne and Hyle exchanged their last few pleasantries, and the former escaped the car. Even though Jaime was very pleased his wench was free from that cretin, Brienne did not turn to look at him, and continued to watch Hyle's car. Eventually, it took him speaking for Jaime to grab her attention.

"Wench, I..."

"What, Jaime?" she huffed. "You could see that Hyle and I were _busy._ Why did you interrupt?"

There was only one answer that he thought would placate her. "We need to talk about the birthing class."

Her eyes went very wide at that statement, almost as if she were surprised that he had said it, before she managed to gasp, "what about the birthing class?"

"We need to talk about the fact I got aroused, wench," he proclaimed, suddenly aware that her tight top gave him a perfect view of her meagre chest. "We need to talk about the fact I got aroused... by you."

Brienne blinked a few times, nervous and startled, before she found the words. "Not here," she whispered, "let's go inside. It will be better to do this somewhere quiet."

Knowing that was an eminently sensible suggestion, Jaime let Brienne lead him back up to their shared apartment in absolute silence, her tapping her foot against the metallic floor of the lift as they shot up fifty stories. Once they got inside the apartment, Brienne immediately bustled about making herself comfortable by taking off her shoes and coat. Jaime thought he had better ways to relax.

"Wench, do you want a beer?" he asked, walking into the kitchen and getting two more out of the mini fridge before she had even answered.

"Umm..." came Brienne's voice from the lounge, "I'm not sure if that's a good idea."

"Too late," he slurred as he sat down next to her on the sofa, thrusting a can of open beer into her hand.

"Jaime, I'm pregnant," she said, looking at him as if he had gone mad.

"Oh yeah," he slurred, before taking it off her. "More for me then."

When he let out an over the top laugh at his own poor joke, Brienne narrowed her eyes at him. "Jaime... are you drunk?"

"No," he replied, giggling, "well, I had a few beers at Tyrion's while we watched the game, and then a few more while I waited for you to come back because I thought it was probably not a good idea to have a conversation with you about the fact I got turned on in the birthing class because I was imagining eating you out totally sober."

Jaime had not really known how Brienne would react to his admission to being aroused by her, but it was not that she was go a red deeper than a sunset and started taking staggered breaths as if she were having an asthma attack. "You what?" she gasped, clutching her chest with her hand.

"You must have noticed," he said, taking one sip from each can of beer he was holding, "I got rock hard during that birthing class, and it was all because I was fantasising about doing things to you."

With every word, Brienne's freckles became harder and harder to see against her intense blush, and things weren't helped by the fact she was gawping at him like a guppy fish. "What... what things?"

"You know... _sexy_ things," he mumbled, taking another swig of beer for courage. "Fucking you, eating you out, you fucking me."

As Brienne's eyes got wider and wider, Jaime could finally appreciate that it was so much easier addressing these issues after drinking loads of beer. It was apparent that, as Brienne was stone cold sober, she was having a greater difficulty than Jaime was in computing these confessions. Her mouth opening and closing around a word, Brienne eventually found the courage to speak, even as her whole body trembled. "Do you want to do those things... with... with... me?"

Jaime shook his head furiously, not wanting her to worry about the fact that this whole situation was entirely his fault for thinking of ridiculously inappropriate things in a birthing class. "Oh gods no, not at all! Don't worry! I got carried away with myself. I think I'm just confused."

For some reason, at that statement, Brienne looked genuinely hurt, but the expression passed quickly as when she replied to him, her face was stony. "About what?"

"Who I want to do sexy things with," he slurred, taking another sip of beer.

"And who is that?" she asked, her nostrils flaring in annoyance.

Jaime was just about to answer her when there was a click of a lock behind them. Spinning around on the sofa, sloshing his beer in the process, he could only watch in awe as a golden haired vision came walking into the apartment, with the air of the brave, legendary princess Argella Durrandon she had played in _The Storm Queen._ Jaime was on his feet, the beers abandoned on the coffee table, before he could even say her name.

"Cersei? What in Seven Hells are you doing here?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! I know you are all going to hate me right now after the promise of last chapter, but I hope you like where I take this. As ever, I love comments and kudos, so please consider leaving them.


	17. Part XVII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cersei comes home...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, wooh! I posted quick! I might be a little slower over the next few days, so I hope this one makes up for that. I hope you like it!
> 
> This chapter includes Cersei being forgetful, which many readers have been asking for!

Brienne's heart fell, as sure and swift as if she was on a rollercoaster.

"Cersei? What in Seven Hells are you doing here?" asked Jaime, his mouth ajar as he leapt to his feet, abandoning the beers on the table.

At Jaime's bemused question, Cersei smiled at her boyfriend with all the luminescent beauty she possessed, making Brienne wonder if she was actually glowing or whether it was merely her own faulty perception. "Jaime," said Cersei admonishingly, even while keeping her voice sweet and light, "that's no way to greet your girlfriend, is it?"

Letting out a happy, drunken laugh, Jaime went charging towards Cersei, pulling her into his arms. The way Jaime touched his girlfriend was so easy and natural that to Brienne, it looked as if it were just meant to be. Both of them were so beautiful that anyone else intruding on that picture would just be a stain.

 _Why did I let myself hope?_ she thought as Jaime and Cersei began kissing passionately. _Even for a moment. Why did I let myself hope?_

Not wanting to watch, Brienne dropped her eyes to the floor and focussed on counting the strands of fibre in the rug. Anything was better than watching Jaime with someone else, even when Brienne knew full well that it was his girlfriend he was holding, the woman he was building a family with, the woman he was in love with.

 _I am not entitled to be jealous,_ Brienne told herself, _because even though it sometimes felt like it, he was never truly mine._

When Jaime broke the kiss, he looked positively jubilant, his hands jumping to Cersei's face. "I thought you still had months left of your shoot in Dorne," he said, smiling at her almost disbelievingly, "are you back for good?"

Cersei shook her head, which made Jaime crumple slightly. It was amazing how much power she had over him. "No, I've got to fly back tomorrow. It's just... recent events have made me do some evaluating of what I want in life and I think we need to talk, and over the phone just wouldn't do. I had to be _close_ to you."

At that declaration, Jaime let out another happy little laugh and pulled Cersei in for another kiss, which once more caused Brienne to look down at the rug. Anything was better than watching this. When they had finished kissing once more, Jaime kept a firm hold on Cersei, while the latter turned her head towards Brienne, a quizzical expression in her eye. "Who is this?" she asked, as if she had never seen Brienne before in her life.

As Brienne furrowed her brows in confusion at Cersei's apparent stupidity, Jaime tried to smooth things over. "You know who this is, Cers. This is Brienne, the surrogate mother of our baby."

Cersei looked confused for a few more moments before putting on a fake smile. "Oh yes, of course. Brianne. The surrogate."

"It's Brienne, actually," said Brienne, trying not to let her resentment come across in her tone.

"Well, whatever," snapped Cersei, clearly not liking to be challenged. "How is it all going? Is the baby... err... cooking well?"

Putting on a slightly insincere smile, Brienne nodded at Cersei and then flicked her eyes to Jaime. "Oh yes, very well. Jaime and I actually went to a birthing class earlier today which was _very_ enlightening. Wasn't it, Jaime?"

At that subtle evocation of _platonicbonergate_ , Jaime went a little white and then tried to cover it up by sounding jocular in his reply. "Oh yes, it went very well. We learnt lots of stuff. In fact, everything is going really well, so it is lovely of you to come back and check on us Cersei."

"Well, I am lovely," conceded Cersei, with a flick of her hair. "I'm glad to hear it is all going well, though, because I have a mother and baby shoot planned with _Rytsas_ magazine worth several million dragons, and I wouldn't want the whole deal to fall through."

Jaime narrowed his eyes at Cersei. "Oh, we'll have to sort out the timing of that, because we will want to make sure Brienne and the baby are both alright after the birth and..."

"Yes, yes, yes," said Cersei impatiently, "of course. But before all that, you and I need to _talk._ So, Brianne, I don't want to be rude or anything, but can you go away now? Surely, you've got a home to go to or something. I need some alone time with Jaime."

Feeling physically sick, Brienne wanted to say something without vomiting but, to her surprise, Jaime spoke instead. "Cers, Brienne lives _here_. I've been looking after her during her pregnancy. You can't just send her away; she has as much right to be here as we do."

Brienne knew that wasn't _technically_ true; this was Cersei and Jaime's home, while Brienne herself was just putting off going back to her own flat because she wanted to stay with Jaime. However, seeing Jaime with Cersei, his arms around her waist, made Brienne want to run away and never come back.

Cersei rolled her eyes. "Alright, but can she make herself _scarce?_ We have important things to discuss."

Wanting to get away as quick as possible, Brienne nodded. "I'll just... erm... I'll just..."

To Brienne's surprise, at her floundering, Jaime let go of Cersei and came towards her, his eyes soft. Considering the situation, it seemed strangely mocking. "You don't have to go anywhere if you don't want."

"I'll go to my room," said Brienne quickly, "I've got some work on my thesis to do anyway..."

"Okay," replied Jaime, watching her with those searching green eyes of hers, "as long as you are happy with that."

"Of course," muttered Brienne before turning away. She did not want to be close to him, not this version of him anyway. However, Jaime stopped her, his hand on her wrist. His touch burned.

"We will finish our conversation another time, yes?" he asked, looking strangely hopeful.

"Maybe," replied Brienne, pulling her hand away from him. Without another word, Brienne moved swiftly away from him in the direction of her bedroom and, when she got there, she forcefully shut the door behind her, wanting to lock out both Cersei's taunting gaze and her hopeless, wasted feelings for Jaime.

 _Jaime is Cersei's,_ she thought, _Jaime has always been Cersei's and you were stupid for thinking anything different._

Trying to focus on something else, Brienne sat down on her bed and powered up her laptop, deciding that some late night editing of her footnotes might be just the thing to keep her distracted from whatever Jaime and Cersei were talking about. She spent some time playing around with the font, before checking some references on the internet and drawing up a list of books she needed to read next time she went to the King's Landing University Library. She was halfway through searching for the style guide in order to regularise the punctuation of her footnotes when she heard a sound; it was the sure, steady creak of a bed.

Lifting her eyes from the laptop, Brienne pricked her ears up. Although the apartment was the height of modern design, most of it was open plan, and the few walls that did stand were almost paper thin. Consequently, she could hear everything; the creak of the bed, the soft feminine moans, and the more masculine grunts, no doubt sounded in time with his thrusting.

"Cersei... Cers... oh, my love..."

Slamming her laptop shut, Brienne dashed around the room until she found her backpack, her charger, her purse, her phone, a notebook and a pen. There was no way she was going to spend the night listening to Jaime and Cersei going at it in the next room. She knew she wasn't entitled to feel jealousy, but nevertheless it coursed through her veins, hot and venomous and driving her mad.

Once everything was packed, Brienne dashed out of her bedroom and fled the apartment. She needed to remind herself that she did not belong here.

* * *

As it was so late at night, Brienne could only think of one place to go where she would be undisturbed; the King's Landing University Library. It stood at the foot of Visenya's Hill and, while it had nothing on the library at the Citadel University in Old Town, it was perfectly serviceable for Brienne's needs. On arrival, Brienne got a coffee from the vending machine and then made her way to her favourite spot on the first floor mezzanine, determined to throw herself into research and not think of Jaime; Jaime naked, Jaime wanting to do things to her, Jaime in bed with another woman.

Settling down in her seat, Brienne opened up her laptop once more, determined to throw herself once more into this great sprawling masterpiece that she had spent years assiduously creating to avoid the big empty hole at the centre of herself. Yes, her studies were designed to help people, but Brienne knew that above all, her thesis was intended to help _herself._ It was a psychological prop against the truth; that only in facts and analysis would she ever find meaning or purpose, because someone who looked like her would never have an emotional life.

Even if there was someone else whose soulmark matched her own.

As it was late, the library was fairly empty but, to her surprise, a little while later someone came and sat down in the chair beside her. Brienne recognised her instantly, so had to say hello.

"Lyanna!" she said, surprised, "what are you doing here so late?"

Lyanna Stark, Sansa's favourite aunt, turned to Brienne, still beautiful even though she was now rapidly approaching middle age. "I am giving a presentation at the Dornish Architecture Conference tomorrow and I have not quite got everything together yet. What about you?"

"Oh you know," shrugged Brienne, not wanting to get into the whole Jaime situation. "Footnotes."

Nodding knowingly, Sansa's aunt reached into her bag and got out her own laptop and a pack of sweets. Lyanna offered one to Brienne, which the latter gratefully took, before the two women settled down into working, side by side, on their theses and presentation respectively.

The hours of night passed mostly in silence. Around one in the morning, Brienne started to yawn, part of her longing to go back to the apartment and go to bed. However, the more dominant side of her knew she could not bear to return to Jaime and Cersei's home and see them living together, loving one another, in the way she knew they always had but never wanted to believe.

Around three in the morning, when Brienne was so tired that she was barely keeping her eyes open, Lyanna got up from her seat and began to pack things away. Once most things were stored away, she extended the unfinished pack of sweets to Brienne. "Do you want them?" she asked.

"Thank you," replied Brienne, taking them from her.

"It was nice to see you," smiled Lyanna, "I'm sure we'll bump into each other at the next Stark family gathering."

"Of course," said Brienne quietly, as Lyanna slung her bag over her shoulder and made to turn away. Before she could go, Brienne called out to stop her. "Lyanna, one moment."

"Yes?"

Brienne bit her lip; she knew Lyanna would not appreciate her asking this question, but she felt as if she needed help from someone who might at least have some small insight into this situation. "Lyanna," began Brienne slowly, trying to work out the best way to pose her question. "Can you tell me how you got over... Rhaegar?"

As Brienne expected, Lyanna stiffened slightly at the mention of his name. "Rhaegar? Why do you want to talk about Rhaegar?"

For some reason, although Brienne had known Lyanna for a long time, she found herself stammering while trying to broach this topic. "Because... because... you shared a soulmark with Rhaegar and he... he... died."

The story was quite famous. It had all happened when Lyanna was very young and had become an overnight sensation due to her appearance in the film _The Knight of the Laughing Tree_ alongside the equally precocious Robert Baratheon. Rumours had quickly swirled around the young couple, and they had appeared on the front of many magazine gossip columns. However, things had quickly soured between them after Lyanna had met the once-in-a-generation songwriter Rhaegar Targaryen. In the space of a few months, he had gone from writing songs about archaic prophecy to the beauty of a northern girl's eyes. Things had escalated quickly and, even though Rhaegar had a wife and two children, it was believed that he and the young starlet were having an affair. During that long ago summer, it had seemed glamorous, romantic, and passionate. 

And then, everything had gone wrong. Lyanna found herself unexpectedly pregnant and, before she had the chance to tell Rhaegar, he had been killed in a hit and run accident. Some people had thought Robert Baratheon had been involved, but there was nothing definitive to connect him to it. In her grief, Lyanna had left acting and retreated to obscurity to raise her son Jon. In comparison, Brienne's own trials and tribulations were relatively minor, but she needed to understand how a person found the strength to overcome the loss of one's soulmate.

"I did share a soulmark with Rhaegar," admitted Lyanna, sitting down in her seat once more. Rolling her sleeve up to reveal her wrist, Lyanna showed the delicate winter rose still branded on her skin. "His was on his collarbone. And I never _got over him,_ Brienne, I just don't allow myself to dwell on that pain every day. Why do you ask?"

Brienne sighed. She had been hoping that Lyanna would give her a sweet platitude about time healing all wounds, but instead, Rhaegar's soulmate just looked sad. Looking down at her own hands, Brienne tried to explain. "It's just... I've met the person I share a soulmark with and we can never be together."

Lyanna looked at her confusedly. "Oh, why is that?"

"He is in love with someone else," replied Brienne sadly.

To her surprise, at that statement, Lyanna let out a little laugh. "I thought I was in love until I met Rhaegar... then I got some perspective."

"I think Jaime is incapable of that," said Brienne bitterly, before taking one of the sweets from the open bag. "When he's with Cersei, he just sees that she is beautiful and thinks that constitutes love. She barely even calls him, and when she does, they argue. Yet he fawns over her. I don't know why he can't see that she is wrong for him, that she doesn't care about him like I do. I know she's Cersei Marbrand, but..."

"Wait," interrupted Lyanna, her eyes going wide, "are you trying to tell me that you share a soulmark with Jaime Lannister, the fashion photographer?"

Although Lyanna was technically correct, Brienne wanted to tell her that Jaime was more than a photographer; he was an artist. However, instead, she decided to remain on the topic at hand. "Yes. Jaime is my soulmate."

Lyanna's face crumpled into something approaching sympathy. "Oh, Brienne, I'm so sorry..."

"Don't be sorry about it!" insisted Brienne, thinking Lyanna was feeling bad for her over the fact that Jaime was her soulmate of all people. "There's nothing to be sorry about. When I am with him, he makes me feel so good. He's kind, and he looks after me, and he's funny, and although he is sometimes a bit of an idiot, his heart is always in the right place."

At Brienne's babbling effusiveness concerning Jaime, Lyanna smiled at her gently. "I'm sure he is lovely, Brienne but... that family. His father, Tywin, is a real tyrant. I had a run in with him while trying to protect some Andal ruins in the centre of the city that he wanted to build a massive skyscraper on and, I'm telling you, that man is a monster. There is not a scrap of kindness or human compassion in him. It's all money, money, money with him and nothing else."

That sounded very strange to Brienne, as Jaime was the total opposite. He was so hungry for love that kindness just burst out of him, although Brienne could sense that with some people, he tried to be aloof and a little snarky in an effort to hide the intensity of what he felt.

_How did Tywin produce a son like Jaime?_

Yet the answer hardly mattered. "Jaime is my soulmate, but he just sees me as a friend... and I can't live like that. I wanted to ask you how you coped with Rhaegar's death because I need to know how I... I... how I can live without Jaime."

Lyanna took Brienne's hand in hers and her fingers were warm. "Oh, Brienne, maybe there's hope."

"Thank you for your kindness, but there's no hope," replied Brienne, her voice quiet. "I know what I am, I know what he is, and I know what _Cersei_ is, and without that stupid sword on my foot I would be able to see this all for what it really is; the story of an ugly woman pining for a man who is so far out of her league he might as well be on the moon."

"Brienne, don't say that about yourself!" cried Lyanna, "men like confidence, men like self-belief, men like..."

At Lyanna's ardently held beliefs, Brienne could not help but let out a breath of laughter. "If I get a bit of confidence, will I suddenly become a _Visenya's Secret_ model, Lyanna? No. I don't need hope because I know it's all false, so I'm looking for practical solutions to make this all less painful. What do I do about my feelings when Jaime will never return them?"

Perhaps sensing that there was no changing Brienne's mind, Lyanna squeezed her fingers reassuringly before letting go. "I don't know what to say, or what I would do if I was in your position, but I found in the years after Rhaegar's death it helped me if I was free of reminders of him; pictures, voice mail messages, all the cute little notes he used to send me. It was easier if I just pretended that he didn't exist, so I could feel like a whole again instead of a half."

"Should I move out?" asked Brienne, more to herself than Lyanna. "Should I go back to my flat so as to not be reminded of him?"

Lyanna shrugged. "Maybe. Perhaps it would give you a little perspective, and maybe make him appreciate what he's missing."

Even though Brienne thought that sounded highly unlikely, she gave Lyanna a small smile. "Perhaps."

"Perhaps," agreed Lyanna gently, before getting to her feet. "I'm really sorry Brienne, but I do have to go and get the handouts printed for the conference. If you need me, you know how to get in touch."

"Of course," smiled Brienne, as Lyanna finally made her way to go. "Good luck at the conference."

"Thanks, I'll need all the help I can get."

Once Lyanna was gone, Brienne returned to her thesis, trying to think of her work and not the revelation she had just had concerning Jaime. There was no hope; he had chosen Cersei more times than she could count and there was no changing that. Yet, Brienne was a strong person. She could make her own decisions for herself and her happiness.

 _I have to leave the apartment,_ she thought, resting her head on her hand and closing her eyes.

_I have to do what is right for me._

_I have to leave the apartment._

_I have to leave..._

When Brienne opened her eyes, there was light streaming in through the window. Checking her watch, she saw it was nearly nine o'clock; clearly, she had slept through the night. After a shake of the head, Brienne closed her laptop and started to pack up her things. She hoped that when she got home, Jaime and Cersei wouldn't be there, that she wouldn't have to face them...

 _But if they are there, I will,_ thought Brienne. _I am strong enough._

The last thing she slipped into her bag was her phone and only when she picked it up did it light up and tell her she had two missed phone calls and two text messages. All three were from Jaime. In spite of all her best instincts, Brienne could not help but open the messages. She was intrigued with what Jaime had to say. Would it be an apology? A rebuke? A declaration?

To her surprise, it was none of the above. Yet, when she saw what he had written her, Brienne's heart froze in her chest and she was running before she could stop herself.

She only hoped she could get to him before it was too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Rytsas" means "Hello" in High Valyrian :D
> 
> I know I remind you of this every time, but I love comments and kudos. I love to know how this story is going! I hope you enjoyed it <3


	18. Part XVIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Cersei talk...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, so my inbox had well and truly blown up when I woke up this morning! Thank you everyone who has commented, I am so happy to hear what you think of my story (even if it is that you all think Jaime is a despicable hateful human who Brienne should run very far away from), and I will get round to replying as soon as possible.
> 
> Now, I know I said I was going to be slow posting but after that cliffhanger (and that response) I wanted to get this chapter to you asap! Be warned, there is a depiction of a canon-typical abusive/toxic relationship (this is the chapter with non-con) as well as NSFW content. 
> 
> You have been warned.

Jaime was so happy to see Cersei; deliriously, drunkenly happen. Well, that might have been because he was _actually_ drunk, but he thought it was mostly just happiness. He had his love back. With his girlfriend here, Jaime could be less confused, less muddled with what he actually wanted in life, free from Brienne's blue eyes. Wrapped in Cersei's arms, he would be reminded that the life he had chosen, with the woman his father had found for him, and the baby that they had planned together, was what he had always wanted. The alternative was anarchy and the unknown.

"So, Brianne," finished Cersei, "I don't want to be rude or anything, but can you go away now? Surely, you've got a home to go to or something. I need some alone time with Jaime."

At Cersei's demand, Brienne blanched, and Jaime couldn't help but feel sorry for her. During Cersei's absence, him and Brienne had built a little home together with turnip in the apartment. Yes, it would only be a fleeting thing, but he liked to think it was a happy home; at least, it was happier than anything he had experienced before. Therefore, he couldn't bear that Cersei would so casually evict Brienne from her own home so dismissively, without the tiniest acknowledgement of what she was doing for her.

"Cers, Brienne lives _here_ ," said Jaime chidingly. "I've been looking after her during her pregnancy. You can't just send her away; she has as much right to be here as we do."

"Alright," said Cersei exasperatedly, rolling her eyes, "but can she make herself _scarce?_ We have important things to discuss."

Jaime did not know what was so important that they couldn't just discuss it on the phone, but he was so happy Cersei was back and at least attempting to put things straight that he left the talking to Brienne.

At Cersei's harsh tone, Brienne nodded quickly, and dropped her blue gaze to the floor, looking strangely awkward and lost. "I'll just... erm... I'll just..."

Wanting to make her feel better - but not quite sure what exactly he was making her feel better about - Jaime stepped towards her, unsure of what to do. "You don't have to go anywhere if you don't want."

"I'll go to my room," she said, still not looking at him, "I've got some work on my thesis to do anyway..."

As she would not deign him with eye contact, Jaime kept his gaze on her, trying to catch her attention. "Okay, as long as you are happy with that."

"Of course," she muttered, before turning to move away. Wanting to stop her, Jaime caught her wrist with his hand. His fingers tingled.

"We will finish our conversation another time, yes?" he asked. What that conversation would entail exactly he did not know (what was new?), but maybe it would be clearer once he had spent some time with Cersei, and she had reminded him that they were in love.

Brienne did not seem so convinced. "Maybe," she muttered, before pulling away and retreating to the safety of her room, slamming the door behind her.

Transfixed by the path she took, Jaime only remembered Cersei was in the room when he felt her arms slither around his waist. "Thank the gods she's gone," she purred, nipping at his neck. "She was dragging the average attractiveness of this apartment down to zero."

Wiggling out of her grasp, Jaime turned to Cersei, furrowing his brow in annoyance. "Hey, don't be so rude to her. She's done a wonderful thing for us and, when you get to know her, she's a really lovely person. And she's not ugly... just pretty in her own way."

"Yeah, yeah," said Cersei flippantly, leaning in for a kiss, clearly not giving two shits about Brienne. Jaime pushed her back.

"No Cersei, I won't have you being rude to Brienne, do you understand me?"

For a few seconds, Cersei looked at him in bewilderment, clearly not quite understanding where his sentiment was coming from. When Jaime did not change his mind, however, Cersei let out a derisive little snort. "Okay, whatever. I'll be positively angelic towards her. Now, come on lover boy... why don't we go to our room and have a chat?"

* * *

Although Jaime wanted nothing more than to talk to Cersei, to sort out the boundaries and frayed edges of their relationship, to discuss how they could become more committed to one another when their baby was due in a few months - Jaime wanted her to be born in love, not in distance and estrangement, after all - it seemed that it was not destined to be. When Cersei had returned home, Jaime had suspected it was motivated by the desire to communicate; however, in spite of her declarations, once in the privacy of their own bedroom, Cersei jumped him.

"Come on Jaime," she whispered, having pushed him down on the bed and begun nibbling at his ear, "we've been separated for months and months and _months._ I've missed you. Let's fuck."

He put his hands on her shoulders, pushing her back. "I thought you wanted to talk."

"I do," replied Cersei, diving in again. "But first I want to fuck."

At that declaration, Jaime tried to roll Cersei off him. "I'm sorry Cers, I'm drunk, and Brienne is in the next room. She's got loads of work to do on her thesis, and I don't want to disturb..."

Cersei rolled her eyes, "gods, can you shut up about Brienne for two seconds? I'm back from Dorne. Make the most of your damn opportunity."

"But, Cers..."

Clearly fed up with his complaints, Cersei slammed her mouth into Jaime's, and bit at his bottom lip until it bled. He tried to pull away, but he was drunk and not quite in full control of himself and, in his heart of hearts, he knew Cersei was right. He should consider himself lucky that he had her back; she was returning to Dorne tomorrow, and even if he didn't feel like it, he had to prove to her that he loved her...

Cersei broke the kiss suddenly and looked at him with bright eyes, confirming his own thoughts as hers. "If you loved me, you would do what I want."

For some reason, Brienne's eyes flashed into his mind at that point, searching, questioning and full of light.

 _I love Cersei,_ he reminded himself, _because if I don't, I've ruined everything for my daughter._

So Jaime did what Cersei wanted. As always, she had him playing the aggressor, tearing her clothes off and pulling her hair when she asked him. However, Jaime could not help but be reminded of the true power dynamic as she pushed him away when he tried to kiss her, and then tightly grabbed hold of his hair and thrust him down until he had his face buried between her thighs.

"You are so good at that, Jaime," growled Cersei, in one of the few small pieces of praise she would ever give him. "You should give up being a photographer and do it full time. You are better at it."

Jaime went to pull back, but Cersei gave a tight twist of his hair that held him fast. As he went to work, Jaime closed his eyes and repeated his mantra to himself.

_I love Cersei. I love Cersei. I love Cersei. I want Cersei. I want Cersei. I want... I want... I want..._

The thought of blue eyes and kind hands came to Jaime's mind, a smattering of freckles on pale skin. _Gods,_ he thought dreamily, _Brienne would have no problems with kissing me as we fucked._ It was quite possible she also wouldn't pull his hair and, when he was on top of her, she would just hold him and stroke his back as he thrust inside her. Everything was all so easy with Brienne, so free of the stress and drama that Jaime associated with being with most people. If it was Brienne and not Cersei who had come home to him after months away, she would be so soft and warm and wouldn't make him fuck her when he was drunk. In fact, she would probably get him a glass of water and pain relief from the bathroom and tell him he needed a good night sleep. Then she would come to bed with him and just hold him in her arms and...

"Faster," panted Cersei. "And use your fingers."

Trying to focus on the task at hand, Jaime did what he was told, wanting to remember all the reasons he loved Cersei. People said she was the most beautiful woman in the world. She had come back from Dorne to see him. In her breakout role in _Knight Time,_ the camera had zoomed in on her green eyes, and the critics proclaimed them the most enchanting eyes in the world.

 _They aren't blue though,_ thought Jaime distantly, disappearing inside himself as Cersei clamped her legs around his head and came on his tongue. When she finally let him go, like a satiated female Praying Mantis, he got to his feet, determined to go to the bathroom and clean up. Cersei had other ideas.

"Get here," she ordered, "you haven't finished yet."

"Cers," Jaime began, his voice low, "I've got a headache, I think I drank too much..."

Leaping from the bed, Cersei came close and pulled him into an embrace, peppering kisses down his neck. "I don't care. You are my boyfriend and it's your job to fuck me. You would do it if you love me."

In spite of the fact that Jaime was confused and tired and too drunk to be making rational decisions, _you would do it if you love me_ was a powerful enough guilt trip to make him crawl up the bed, remove the remainder of his clothes, and take her from behind, just as she liked it.

 _I love Cersei,_ Jaime told himself as he threaded his fingers through her blonde hair, pulling at it tightly. _I love Cersei,_ he thought, as he dug his other hand into her hip and began to rut into her, faster and faster until he set her sighing. _I love Cersei,_ he told himself, as he imagined being inside Brienne, wrapped around her as he fucked her until she moaned, made her cry out his name in her ecstasy. Her cheeks would be flushed, her pupils blown with desire, and she would be the most magnificent fucking thing he had ever seen in his life.

 _No, no, no, no..._ came the tiny, rational, not drunk on life and alcohol part of his brain, desperately trying to grab hold of the steering wheel and take control of his fantasies once more, to think about the woman he was actually in bed with and not the one on the other side of the wall.

"Cersei..." he moaned, trying to think of the green eyes that were refusing to look at him. "Cers... oh my love...'

"Shut up, you are putting me off!" she hissed, but Jaime hardly heard her.

_My love, my love, my love..._

Brienne would call him that as she held him, as she tenderly ran her fingers over his face, wanting to recall the sight of it with her touch. She would be nervous of certain things, of different ways they could have each other, but Jaime was willing to teach her. In fact, he thought he would quite enjoy it; he would tease her open slowly with sweet words, his fingers, and his tongue, until she begged for it, begged for him, screamed that she loved him and no one else.

It was too intoxicating a vision. Arrested by the sight of Brienne - open, willing, and loving - Jaime came, grabbing hold of his lover's hips as he did so to root himself to the fantasy more firmly, to become lost in it. "My love," he moaned, collapsing into the fantasy of being surrounded by her, Brienne, his love, as he came. "My love..."

There, lost in the height of his passion, it all seemed so clear, like standing at the top of a mountain to watch the sun peaking over the horizon.

 _I'm not confused,_ he realised, everything hitting him at once. _I want Brienne. I love Brienne._

That thought made him so monumentally happy that, when he fell back against the bed, he couldn't stop a big stupid grin stretching across his face.

 _I've been so stupid,_ he groaned inwardly, I _love Brienne. Of course I love Brienne. She's my soulmate, she wants to spend time with me, she makes me so happy, she's the one I am meant to be with._

However, it all came crashing down a few seconds later when Cersei laid down beside him, looking like the cat who got the cream. Her closeness made him realise. Slumped next to his girlfriend, supposedly the most beautiful woman in the world, Jaime could barely look at her, because his whole body was suddenly surging with guilt.

 _Fuck,_ he thought, _fuck, fuck, fuck. I love Brienne._

_I love Brienne._

_And I've just fucked Cersei in the bedroom next to hers while Brienne is trying to do her thesis and carrying Cersei's baby for her._

_And then there's turnip. Oh gods, what do I do about turnip? She is Cersei's and she is Brienne's and she is mine and I don't know... I don't know..._

_Gods, I'm a terrible, terrible person._

As he mulled on his guilt, Cersei got out of bed, playing the role of beautiful naked goddess with panache. Yet, in this moment of exquisite realisation, Jaime realised that visage was false. Cersei was no goddess; just a regular human being who had the luck to have good genetics, a talented make-up artist, and more money than sense. Reaching for her phone, two seconds later Cersei was typing in a number and, turning her back on him, she called her personal assistant, Taena.

"Taena, I need a ride... I know you are in Dorne, but do you honestly expect me to do it?... I don't want a taxi; I want a private car... It needs to be here early in the morning... I know it's the middle of the night, but get it done!... What do you mean where is here?... It's obviously my apartment!... Oh, for god's sake woman, just use your initiative and get it done!"

Slamming the phone down, Cersei got out of bed, pulling most of the duvet with her. "Get up, we need to get ready," she proclaimed, her eyes dancing with wildfire as she grinned at him mischievously.

Wanting to try and get back to familiar territory, to a place where his whole world had not just shifted on its axis, Jaime sat up, his head spinning. "What for?" he asked stupidly, feeling a little queasy either from the drink or the fact he was a total idiot and had just realised it.

"The courthouse," Cersei grinned, before starting to get dressed into her clothes once more. "You know, the one on Aegon's Hill."

Jaime narrowed his eyes at her, confusedly. The courthouse on Aegon's Hill was where Jaime had suggested they get married in a low key ceremony, before Cersei had demanded the extravaganza that they were planning on the Summer Isles the following year. "Why would I be going to the courthouse?" he asked her, not quite connecting the dots together.

Letting out a little laugh, Cersei picked up her dress off the floor, and then looked at him in the way Jaime had long dreamed she would. "We're going to get married, stupid. Before I left Dorne, I called to check if they had a spot open and apparently, they can do us at 6am, right before the morning papers break."

Jaime blinked at her, not quite believing what she had just said. When he had suggested the courthouse, Cersei had been casually dismissive, yet now she was happy to have a last minute, hurried ceremony there the one day in the month she was back from Dorne. "What?" asked Jaime in a surprised tone. "But we've got the wedding book in Tall Trees Town in the Summer Isles next summer. You wanted a big party with everyone who was anyone in attendance. I wanted something smaller, but you said you didn't..."

After finding her knickers, Cersei began to slip them on, barely listening to his complaints. "Oh, I just decided I couldn't wait. I wanted to marry you before any bullshit got in the way."

"What bullshit would get in the way?" he asked suspiciously, as Cersei moved around the room, collecting all their clothes and then dumping them on the bed.

"You know," she said, not looking at him, "life, babies, people trying to dig up shit about me."

"Who would be trying to dig up shit about you?"

At that moment, Cersei tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder, as if she were in a shampoo advert. "The jealous bitches who can't get over how fabulous I am," she said, before turning in the direction of the ensuite. "I'm going to have a quick shower. By the time I'm out, I expect you to be ready. Your father would be highly disappointed if you didn't marry me, you know."

And without another word, Cersei disappeared in the bathroom, leaving Jaime alone with the realisation that his slow, stupid heart had just come to.

 _I love Brienne,_ he thought, getting off the bed that smelt so much of Cersei. _Addam was right. I'm in love with Brienne. Oh gods, what the fuck do I do?_

Not only was Cersei Marbrand, beloved star of stage and screen, casually showering in their apartment entirely unaware he had just fucked her to completion imagining another woman, but Brienne was in the next room doing her thesis, having to listen to it.

 _Oh fuck,_ he thought, grabbing his boxers and throwing them on. _Why am I such a stupid dickhead?_

Leaving Cersei and the sound of the shower behind him, Jaime went charging out into the lounge, not wasting a moment in dashing over to Brienne's room and hammering on the door. "Brienne?" he called, his voice a little too loud for what the situation actually warranted. "Brienne?"

When she did not answer for quite a while, Jaime got a little frustrated, but then remembered was still drunk, was an idiot, didn't have a plan, and was only wearing his boxers. It did not make a good impression.

 _I can't just go charging in and declare I love her,_ he thought, _what sort of ridiculous fool would that make me?_

_But maybe I could apologise for being inconsiderate enough to fuck Cersei in the next room, though._

"Brienne?" he said again, before pushing the door open and peaking around into the space. To his surprise, the room was empty. As it was the middle of the night, Jaime went into a momentary panic, fearful that she had been abducted while he was too busy schtupping his girlfriend to notice, but then he noticed her laptop was gone. On occasion, Brienne had been known to go for a late night study session, so perhaps she had gone to the KLU Library.

 _I would,_ he thought darkly, _if I had been forced to listen to Cersei and me going at it._

Even though Brienne was not there, in spite of his better instincts, Jaime went into the spare bedroom. Before Brienne had moved in, it had been a neat little minimalist room with nothing special about it. To Jaime's amazement, in the short time space of time she had occupied it, Brienne had turned it into a home. There was a map of Tarth on the wall, KLU colours hanging from the bedframe, and photos in frames on the bedside cabinet. The larger was of Brienne and her father, but the other was of himself and Brienne, taken one day in the kitchen. She had been the one to capture the picture, so she was looking firmly at the camera, while his face was turned to her and he was smiling, his eyes bright.

 _Oh gods,_ thought Jaime, _why didn't I see it? I've loved her so long._

That realisation did not make things any easier, though. Brienne was carrying his and Cersei's baby; what were they meant to do about that now? When the egg implantation had been done all those months ago, Brienne had signed reams and reams of documents rescinding her claims on the child to Cersei, due to the fact that the latter was the biological mother. There was going to be a day after turnip was born in which Brienne would have to hand his daughter over to Cersei, with no word over how she was cared for or looked after, even though she had been growing the baby inside her for nine whole months.

 _But she's our child,_ thought Jaime desperately, his head in his hands as he sat on the bed. _Turnip is mine and Brienne's child. Our baby. We've been here together, doing all this together, I've been thinking of Brienne as her mother. I've blurred lines that aren't meant to be blurred, I've crossed boundaries that will only make things harder for my daughter, I've..._

_I've fallen in love with Brienne._

Lost in that joyous, soul-destroying thought, Jaime nearly jumped out of his skin when the door to the bedroom swung open and Cersei walked in, looking every inch the movie star in her expensive jeans, heels, and sloganeering t-shirt. Suddenly feeling naked and exposed, Jaime jumped to his feet.

"Why aren't you dressed?" asked Cersei, irritated. "I thought maybe we could go and get some more drinks before the ceremony; at the casino, perhaps?"

"Cersei..."

"We don't have all night, we need that 6am slot. Any later and I am in danger of missing my flight to Dorne."

"Cers..."

"We will of course still have the Summer Isles wedding, maybe as a renewal of vows, but that will be an exclusive event where we sell the rights to the photos for a fortune..."

"Cersei, please..."

"...whereas I will just announce this on social media and the internet will _explode_ , totally outdoing Margaery Tyrell and her stupid plan to give birth for attention this week."

It was the reduction of Margaery Tyrell's pregnancy to a mere publicity stunt that pushed Jaime over the edge. Cersei had a horrible way of making childbirth and families sound as if they were all about status and power. He wondered whether she thought about her own in that way. "Cersei!" he shouted, his voice loud enough to push her into silence as his feelings launched themselves free of him. "Will you just listen to me for a moment?"

Stealing a glance at her one-of-a-kind watch, Cersei said, "alright, as long as you make it quick. I want my wedding night to be glamorous."

 _I want my wedding night to be loving,_ he thought, feeling the presence of Brienne in the spare room, even though she was absent.

When he spoke, his voice cracked. "Cersei... I _can't."_

Not seeming to quite register what he had just said, Cersei let out a disbelieving little laugh. "What?"

"I _can't,_ " he repeated, growing stronger with every word. "I'm sorry... but I can't marry you. It's not fair for you to come back from Dorne after months of barely saying a word to me, and then book a wedding ceremony without even telling me..."

She snorted derisively at that, even as she started to look a little panicked. "What does it matter? You want to marry me; it was you who arranged the whole Summer Isles ceremony."

"Because _you_ wanted it!" he declared, an angry heat he didn't know he was in possession of unleashing itself in the pit of his stomach. "For months and months you barely talk to me, never ask me about the baby, never want to know how I'm doing, and then spend your time hanging out with Robert Baratheon and Osney Kettleblack and whoever fucking else, and then you come back and demand I marry you in the middle of the night with no one in attendance!"

Not one to back down from a fight, Cersei puffed herself up, her green eyes bright. "Who have you been talking to? It is Varys from _The Daily Whisperer?_ Because he's nothing but a dirty rotten liar who has always hated me. Whatever he's told you is a lie!"

"He's told me nothing!" insisted Jaime confusedly, not quite sure what Cersei was talking about and unable to put it together given his drunken state. "This is about you and me, Cersei, and the fact you've come storming into my home that I share with Brienne and told her to leave because you want to _talk,_ but then you don't talk at all and just demand things from me. And I let you... I always let you..."

"Don't tell me this is all about that giant blond oaf," laughed Cersei cruelly, "that great shambling freak! She'll be out of our lives the minute she pops my baby out, Jaime, and not a second later."

If Jaime was annoyed and confused before, now he was positively livid. "Don't you call her that. Don't you _dare_ call her that."

"Why not?" spat Cersei. "That's what she is, Jaime, in case you haven't noticed. I would have gone for a better model when searching for a surrogate myself, but as she's so poor and ugly and _dull_ she could be bought with a measly ten thousand dragons."

Against all his better instincts, Jaime grabbed Cersei by her shoulders and shook her, furious that he dared speak of Brienne in that way. "Don't you dare say that about her! What Brienne has done for us is nothing more than the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me. She's let me into the process without a moment’s complaint, and has made me feel more part of a family than I ever have in my life, made me a _father,_ so don't you _dare_ say those things about her. Do you hear me?"

He did not know whether it was his tone, or his expression, but instantly the mocking glee vanished from Cersei's eyes as she stepped back, her eyes wide. "Oh gods," she mumbled, turning pale. "You're fucking her, aren't you? Ever since I've been gone, you are here in _our_ apartment fucking her."

That suggestion made Jaime almost choke with fury. Brienne was far too honourable to take anyone's sloppy seconds, least of all Cersei Marbrand's. "Of course I haven't!" he yelled, insulted on Brienne's behalf as well as his own. "I've been waiting here for you to come back, waiting for you to be as committed to me as I have been to you, and yet it's never going to happen, is it? I've wasted so much time being in love with this woman who doesn't even exist, who doesn't even care about me, who only thinks about herself and..."

The slap came so hard and fast that Jaime was nearly knocked off his feet. His breathing staggered, Jaime could not help but stare at her, this green-eyed monster he once thought was the love of his life.

"Pull yourself together," growled Cersei, her voice low, as Jaime reeled from the impact, clutching his burning cheek with his hand. "Do you think for a moment that I would be bothered about being with you if it wasn't for daddy's money? You are a crappy photographer who has only got anywhere in life because he is Tywin Lannister's son, whereas I am one of the most beautiful, talented actresses in the world. So, if you had any sense at all, you would get dressed right now and get your pretty arse down to the courthouse right now. I don't care what you think, Jaime. I _am_ going to be your wife."

And it was then, in that moment, when Cersei was speaking quietly, her eyes were bright, and his cheek was still stinging from her slap that Jaime saw it. The fear. Cersei was genuinely terrified at the prospect of him disobeying her, and he had no idea why.

He played the only card he had left. "No."

Even though he was naked, a little drunk, and his cheek reddened by a slap, Jaime still felt like the victor as Cersei stared at him with those deer-in-the-headlights eyes.

"I'm going to the airport, the VIP lounge," she growled, her lips contorting into a snarl, trying to retake the high ground. "I'll be there until my flight. Maybe you should use this time to think about what you want, what you _really_ want, and come to your damn senses."

Using all her acting training, Cersei then held her head high as she spun on her heel and went to retreat from the room, attempting to appear the all conquering heroine. Even so, Jaime could sense Cersei's fear and it made him think that she would be too embarrassed to face him. Yet, as she reached the door, Jaime realised Cersei had no shame as she turned back to look at him, her eyes bright.

"Remember," she said, her tone soft but poisonous. "The courts always take the side of the biological mother. Children cannot be without their mother, can they?"

Ending on that devastating argument, Cersei stormed out Brienne's room leaving Jaime all alone with nothing but the dawning knowledge of the war zone he had just found himself in. Wanting comfort, Jaime stayed amongst the familiar warmth of Brienne's things until he heard the distant slam of the front door. Once Cersei was gone, he dashed out into the main open plan area of the apartment, heading straight for the kitchen where he downed a can of beer.

 _What do I do?_ he thought desperately. _I've messed everything up. For me, for Brienne, for Cersei, for turnip. What do I do?_

Chucking the half empty beer in the bin, Jaime then went back into his bedroom to find his phone, still casually wedged in his jeans. Overwhelmed by fear, alcohol, desire, and a splash of excitement, he got out his phone to call Brienne. Once again, he did not quite know what to say, but he thought it would make it up on the spot. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately) for Jaime, his Baby Mama did not answer, so he left a rambling message about calling him. A minute later, he did the same thing again. When there was nothing but yet more silence from her, he retreated to the bathroom, determined to wash Cersei off and try to clear his thoughts.

 _What do I do?_ he asked himself again as the water washed over his skin. _What do I do for my daughter? I can't let Cersei have her, I can't! And yet... there's Brienne and I... oh gods I don't know._

After he finished his shower, Jaime went and got changed once more before checking to see if he had missed any messages from Brienne. To his immense disappointment, he had not. Although part of him thought it would be better to wait until he was thinking more clearly to contact her, Drunk Jaime instead decided to send her a message conveying everything his burning, sad, happy, lovesick soul was feeling.

_I jus brok up wiv Cerse_

_I think I'm in lub with yiu_

_This is al a fyckin mess_

_Cs gone to the airport._

_Should i go aftr her?_

_For turnip's sake?_

When Brienne did not reply after hours and hours, Jaime's heart fell. In six stupid, drunkenly misspelled sentences, he was sure he had pushed her away. They had agreed they were platonic soulmates, nothing more; so surely, she would never want anything else. After all, Brienne Tarth was a bright, intelligent PhD student while Jaime Lannister was a stupid fuck up who didn't even know what he wanted. In fact, he was in the process of messing around with the set-up of his life so badly that he was going to force his daughter to be born into a fraught and difficult situation. Knowing what he had to do, Jaime took a deep breath and sent Brienne one more message. This time, it was short and sweet.

_I'm gonna go to the airport._

It was the only thing he could do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I would love to hear what you think of my story in the form of comments or kudos!


	19. Part XIX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne goes to find Jaime...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lucky for you guys, the action in the next chapter of Zombie Horror Hordes is causing me problems, so you are getting another chapter of this one. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Btw, there is a tiny bit of NSFW content in this one ;P

All things considered, running down the road with a huge rucksack and a baby bump was not the most comfortable thing to do, but Brienne felt she had no other choice. Had Jaime just admitted he was in _lub_ with her via text message and then chased after Cersei? She was so confused, so relentingly unsure of what was going on, but she had to find out, she had to know.

 _Jaime,_ she told him, hoping that he was listening to her, wherever he was. _I'm coming and whatever it is, whatever has gone wrong, I'll make it right for you._

_At least, I'll try._

Due to her super long legs, Brienne just managed to reach the bus that was headed in the direction of Stokeworth where the airport was located before it left, and she had to dig around in her pocket for a few spare dragons to pay for her fare. Once she had her ticket, Brienne staggered over to her seat and pulled her phone out, calling his number as quickly as she could.

She got the answerphone.

"Jaime... gods, don't go and chase Cersei. Whatever happened... whatever she said... whatever you did, take some time to think about it. There are months before turnip is born. You have time to work this out, to think about what you want. Don't freak out and panic when you are not in your right mind just... _think_ about it. And if you get time, please call me back. I'm so worried about you. I want to know you are okay."

Hanging up, Brienne put the phone back in her pocket and tried to think about something other than her Baby Daddy and the spell Cersei had over him. In all the time Brienne had known Jaime, she had never understood; Cersei just had to say jump and he would jump, always eager to please like a over excited puppy. As far as Brienne was concerned, Jaime could do so much better, but he apparently did not want to see that. Instead, Jaime Lannister wanted to text Brienne to tell her that he was in _lub_ with her and then chase after Cersei once more, as if everything that passed between them during the months in that apartment where they had lived together like it meant something was inconsequential.

Unable to wait, she tried ringing again.

He didn't answer.

Half an hour later, she tried once more.

All she got was silence.

When the bus finally pulled up outside the Departures terminal, Brienne was on her feet instantly, checking for flights to Dorne that Cersei could possibly be trying to board right that second on her phone. On the air traffic control website, Brienne discovered although there were no commercial flights, there was one private jet headed to Sunspear at noon. It fit the bill perfectly. Being a celebrity, no doubt Cersei would be ensconced in one of the luxury departures lounges, and that was most probably where Jaime had headed.

It was unlikely she was going to be let in, but she was going to bloody well try.

Shoving her way through the terminal, Brienne sped to the Information Desk, which was manned by an intensely bored looking redhead who looked as if she would rather be anywhere than where she was.

"Welcome to the King's Landing-Stokeworth airport," she said wearily as Brienne skidded to a halt in front of the desk. "My name is Ygritte. How can I help you today?"

"I'm Brienne, Cersei Marbrand's personal assistant," gasped Brienne, improvising in the light of Ygritte's indifference by getting her KLU student card out and waving it around as if it were a valid form of identity. "Is she already here?"

"Yeah, up in the VIP departures lounge, where she will stay until she goes through security," said Ygritte, before blowing a strand of hair out of her eyes.

"Is anyone with her?"

"What do you mean is anyone with her?" asked Ygritte, finally showing some emotion other than disinterest when she wrinkled her nose in confusion.

"I mean is anyone with her?" inquired Brienne again, her voice becoming fearful and tense, "particularly a blond man with green eyes."

Ygritte shrugged. "No idea. You would have to check yourself. Do you want her or him?"

 _Him,_ thought Brienne, even as she said the opposite.

"Her, she's forgotten her... err... script for the latest episode of _The Sand Snakes,_ and we've all been told that if it leaks, they'll change it suddenly to stop the people on the internet spreading spoilers everywhere. Do you really want a nonsensical story line that is more reliant of visuals than actual plot progression?"

"No..." said Ygritte, looking horrified.

" _No,_ " confirmed Brienne, "then you'll have to let me see Cersei _now."_

Perhaps it was a mix of indifference and her fear about seeing a dodgy season of _The Sand Snakes,_ but Ygritte then got to her feet and gesticulated towards Brienne, asking her to follow. Not wanting to draw any more attention to herself, Brienne fell in line behind Ygritte as the redhead made her way towards the VIP Departures Lounge, keeping her head low just in case someone noticed she was not strictly authorised to enter where Ygritte was directing her.

"I'm not surprised she's going to Dorne this morning," said Ygritte casually as they began climbing the stairs side by side. "I would if I was her. I wouldn't be able to look anybody in the eye knowing they knew all those things about me."

"Knowing what about you?" asked Brienne confused as to what Ygritte was talking about.

The Information Girl let out a disbelieving laugh, "and if I were Cersei, I would fire you as my personal assistant."

Not wanting to raise anymore suspicion, Brienne did not ask why, but merely followed Ygritte meekly towards the VIP lounge. What did Ygritte know about Cersei? And, if Ygritte knew it, did Jaime as well?

When Ygritte directed Brienne towards the VIP lounge with a cheery wave goodbye, Brienne took a deep breath before pushing the door open. It was quite possible that Jaime was in there right at that moment talking to Cersei, begging her to take him back. After momentarily steeling herself in case she was confronted with that situation, Brienne pushed open the door.

To her surprise, the lounge was empty apart from a lone woman sitting at the bar sipping a drink. There was no mistaking her; that blonde mane was imitated in hair salons all over the world. It was Cersei. Swallowing nervously, Brienne stepped forward. This close, she could understand why Jaime had been lose in her green-eyed dream; Cersei Marbrand really did look as if she had been cast in porcelain, while the rest of womankind was just made of clay.

 _And I'm made of mud,_ thought Brienne bitterly.

Stepping forward, Brienne made her move. "Cersei," she said, causing the world famous movie star to turn around and look at her. "Where is Jaime?"

Cersei's perfect pouty mouth twitched in amusement. "Why? It's only nine o'clock. Are you already gagging for his cock?"

Too scared and worried to flush in embarrassment, Brienne met Cersei's mocking with a stony expression. "Where is he? Hours ago he told me he had gone to the airport to find you. He should be here by now. Where is he, Cersei? You must have seen him! You must have..."

"Oh, you've just missed him," Cersei said casually, before taking a sip of her drink, abandoning it on the bar, and getting off her stall. "He was in a frightfully bad mood. Perhaps you could do something to cheer him up?"

"I can't unless I know where he is," said Brienne firmly, a knot of fear twisting and congealing in the pit of her stomach. There was something about Cersei's taunting expression that told Brienne everything she needed to know; wherever Jaime was, he was not in a good place.

Perhaps sensing Brienne's terror, Cersei let out a little splutter of laughter, clearly enjoying the power she held. "You know, even if you go and find him now, he won't want you. He's had me, so he won't ever, _ever_ want an ugly beast like you."

From the tormenting, gargoyle-like expression on Cersei's face, Brienne could tell that the blonde menace had intended that barb to slip between the chinks in her armour and pierce her right through the heart. Instead, it just made Brienne want to sing.

Jaime had _had_ Cersei. He did not _have_ her.

"You and Jaime are over then?" Brienne asked, trying to keep her relief out of her tone. "He did not come and beg for you to take him back?"

Cersei's taunting glee vanished in a second. "It's only a matter of time," she proclaimed, her gaze biting. "He was not in his right mind when he turned up; maybe he was still drunk." It had been so long since Jaime had been drinking the previous day that Brienne thought that conclusion was unlikely, but she did not say so and let Cersei keep talking. "When he comes to his senses, he will see that he is _lucky_ to have me and will come begging on hands and knees for me to take him back."

"You don't think he was talking sense?" asked Brienne. She could just imagine Jaime, panicked, the man who told her he _lubbed_ her via text, rambling and angry in his attempt to say things to Cersei that he had been trying to get off his chest in years, appearing to be a little out of sorts.

"He came in here chatting about vegetables."

Brienne looked at Cersei confusedly, thinking she must have misconstrued whatever he was saying. "What? Vegetables?"

"Turnips to be precise," replied Cersei, flicking her hair over her shoulder in a long wave. "That we have to get on for the good of the turnips. He said that he wanted for us to find a way be friends, to work together, even if we weren't a couple. All for the turnips. He said he wouldn't marry me today..."

"Today? Why would he marry you today?" asked Brienne, lost. "You have a wedding planned for next year in the Summer Isles."

"My plan," replied Cersei, "stupid really, but it would have all worked out alright if he had agreed to the six o'clock appointment, but now he _knows_ and I am going to have to go and talk to his father to get this whole thing smoothed over."

"Knows what?" inquired Brienne, asking what felt like hundredth question that morning.

Given the topic, Brienne had though Cersei would be obstructive, but instead she just shrugged and walked back to the bar, picking up a magazine from the polished surface. "I suppose you'll know eventually," sighed Cersei, handing it to Brienne, "and I can just tell you'll be a judgemental little bitch about it before you've even opened your mouth."

Trying to ignore yet another of Cersei's cruel barbs, Brienne looked down at the magazine. It was today's copy of _The Daily Whisperer_ , that publication that Jaime had always claimed had an irrational hatred for Cersei, and yet there she was, on the front, her golden body entwined with Robert Baratheon's beside some private pool in Dorne.

_CERSEI MARBRAND'S SIZZLING LOVE AFFAIR WITH ROBERT BARATHEON: REVEALED!_

_What will Tywin Lannister say?_

As Brienne read the headline over and over again, the words sunk in like a punch in the gut, as if Cersei had physically hit her. Who would ever be crazy enough to cheat on Jaime Lannister? It was absolutely absurd. Looking back up at Cersei, Brienne began stammering. "You... you... you... cheated on Jaime? With Robert Baratheon?"

Cersei rolled her eyes. "Oh, what a surprise, there she is. The judgemental little bitch. Or should I say the judgemental big bitch?"

Once more ignoring Cersei's attempt to rile her with a personal attack, Brienne asked, "how could you? How could you cheat on him? He's nothing but loyal to you, and this is how you repay him?"

 _If I had him in my bed,_ thought Brienne, _I would never betray him in this way. I could never do such a terrible thing to him._

Yet Cersei seemed to disagree. "Fidelity is so terribly bourgeois," she proclaimed. "I am the most beautiful woman in the world. It is only right that I have an army of lovers, and the richest of husbands."

At that comment, Cersei finally succeeded in riling Brienne and she rolled up the copy of _The Daily Whisperer_ in her hand, only just managing to restrain herself from beating Cersei round the head with it. "And that is all you see in him, isn't it? His money? You truly don't see any of the things that make him wonderful; how kind he is, how loyal he is, how he always tries to put other people first. And the baby was just an attempt to tie him to you, wasn't it? And the aborted wedding this morning your way of getting his inheritance before he found out about your affair?" 

As Brienne put her conclusions together, Cersei started slow clapping, as if this was something amusing on the internet. "Oh, you were a bit faster at putting it together than he was, I'll grant you that, but at least his reaction was more dramatic. The poor boy started crying about how blind he had been and then marched off saying he was going to check out his rights to the turnips with his lawyers. I'm telling you; he needs to be sectioned."

"You do know where he is then?" barked Brienne, the tremor in her voice growing. "He's gone to see his lawyers?"

Clearly disappointed that Brienne had interrupted her villain speech mid flow, Cersei blanched. "I... I... I..."

"Oh, I have no time for this," spat Brienne angrily, ramming the copy of _The Daily Whisperer_ into her bag. "I'm going to find Jaime."

And without another word Brienne turned on her heel and left Cersei all alone in the VIP Departures Lounge at the King's Landing-Stokeworth airport. If she wanted to finish her speech, Cersei would have to talk to herself like the deranged nutcase she was, as Brienne Tarth had bigger fish to fry.

* * *

An hour later after two bus rides, a ten minute jog, and a further three unanswered calls to Jaime, Brienne went running into _Peckledon & Payne Solicitors _on Aegon's High Hill, the place she had signed the documents handing over her claims of motherhood to Cersei all those months ago. Sweaty and exhausted, Brienne nevertheless sped into the palatial foyer, skidding to a halt in front of the receptionist, who gave her a stuck on smile. "Hello, my name is Pia and I am here to welcome you to _Peckledon & Payne Solicitors. _How may I help you?"

"Has Jaime Lannister visited today?" gasped Brienne, her breathing ragged. "Is he in with his lawyers now?"

Pia turned to her computer. "I can't let you have the confidential details of clients, but I can tell you that Mr Payne has five minutes free if you want to speak to him."

Relieved that she had not met another dead end, Brienne went dashing off in the direction of the lift, until she remembered. Returning to Pia, she panted, "I'm sorry, but where is Mr Payne's office?"

In the end, Pia decided to escort her up to the office because it was her break, but that did not prevent her looking a little horrified when Brienne went charging through Mr Payne's front door at the rate of knots. As expected, Podrick was sitting inside, luxuriating in his short break by eating a current bun. When he saw her, Podrick's eyes went very wide and he dropped crumbs on his tie. 

"Ms Tarth!" he squawked, putting the bun on his desk before getting to his feet. "I wasn't expecting to see you today."

When they shook hands, Podrick's hand was sticky from the bun, as well as a little warm. "I'm sorry for barging in like this," Brienne breathed, "but I need to know where Jaime is. I'm worried about him. I've been lead to believe that he came here to see you and Mr Peckledon, to talk about the papers concerning our baby." Without thinking about it, Brienne's hand dropped to her belly to cradle their child.

 _His child,_ she tried to tell herself. _His child._

A flush appeared on Podrick's cheeks. "You know I am not meant to talk about what clients have been discussing with me."

"I know," she said quickly, "but I am just so concerned for him. I need to find him, and he is not returning any of my calls. Do you know where he might have gone?"

Podrick shook his head. "I don't. He came to see me about two hours ago and then he ran off with a big pile of papers, so I assume he may have wanted to go home and read through them..."

"I know where he has gone," interrupted Pia suddenly, her brown eyes wide.

Brienne snapped her head around. "Where?" she asked, trying to keep the desperation out of her voice.

"When he came back down to the reception," Pia recalled, "I was reading a copy of _The Daily Whisperer._ He spotted me, and then asked me to look up the address of the magazine, particularly of the editor, Varys."

"Pia!" cried Podrick. "You can't just tell Ms Tarth confidential information about Mr Lannister!"

Pia waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, it's not about anything legal! It's about a copy of _The Daily Whisperer._ "

Not caring for Podrick's devotion to client confidentially, Brienne looked at Pia earnestly, trying to convey how much she needed to know where Jaime was. "Where is the address?"

"123 Cobblers Square, I think," said Pia. "He said he needed the ammunition to put up a good fight."

Sighing in both relief that Jaime was preparing to fight back against Cersei, and fury that he was going to make her run to the other side of the city when she was heavily pregnant and carrying a huge bag, Brienne stood up to her full height. "Thank you, Pia, thank you, Podrick. You don't know how much this means to me."

* * *

Half an hour later, having run all the way down Dragon's Way, across King's Square, and then along the God's Way, Brienne finally arrived at Cobblers Square, feeling exhausted, sweaty, and slightly enraged. This time, when she skidded up to the front desk, she didn't wait for the diminutive receptionist to introduce herself, and just screamed at her instead.

"I need to speak to Varys. NOW. It is an emergency."

Luckily for her, the girl was meek enough not to call security and instead directed Brienne up to the beautiful penthouse office which had a view of the entirety of Cobblers Square. Varys was sitting at his desk in a silk kimono, a bird of paradise in a cage beside him. Brienne could not help but be struck by the thought that he looked like a villain from a Jaeherys Bond film.

"Ah," he said sweetly as she entered the room. "Ms Tarth. I wondered if I would be seeing you today."

Surprised that he knew her, Brienne blinked nervously. "How do you know my name?"

"In my line of work, it pays to know everyone's secrets," smiled Varys as he straightened his silk kimono, "especially who exactly is acting as the surrogate mother to the heir of _Lannister Enterprises._ One day, that baby you are carrying will be a very important person. You at least deserve a mention in a footnote in their biography, sweetling."

Swallowing nervously at what Varys had just suggested - she had not thought about Alys as an heiress before - Brienne tried to recover herself. "Has Jaime been to see you today?"

"Of course," replied Varys, confirming Pia's suspicions, "but you already know that. He came in here babbling about turnips, and demanded I had over everything I have on Cersei and her various infidelities."

"Infidelities?" asked Brienne. "You mean there are more than just Robert Baratheon?"

"Oh, he's at the top of the list, but he is just the start," giggled Varys, as Brienne suddenly became aware of how sickly sweet the room smelt. "There's Lancel, and Osmund Kettleblack, and the entire cast of Moon Boy for all I know. And because of that, Jaime thinks he can make a case against her, to get hold of a very special turnip indeed."

As Varys' dark eyes glistened knowingly, Brienne dwelled on the fact she did not like how the slippery editor said _turnip;_ there was something controlling and almost possessive there. Perhaps he was already imagining the exclusive scoop on the day the baby was born. "You think he's building a case?" asked Brienne, knowing it must be true, "to try and get the baby from Cersei?"

Varys shrugged his shoulders. "That is what he told me, that he was going to go home and put something together, but who really knows what Jaime will do now? In fact, I am quite fascinated, and I imagine whatever road he takes next will make tantalising gossip for the readers of _The Daily Whisperer,_ as will your next move, Ms Tarth, if you choose to remain _involved."_

If she had disliked the way Varys said _turnip,_ she positively hated the way he said _involved._ It was as if Varys was reading her like a book and could see she was more than just some passive observer to Jaime's life. She was now well and truly entangled, and she did not know if she could see a way out.

Not wanting to feel like a ball of wool being played with by a cat a moment's longer, Brienne gave Varys a stiff nod. "Thank you for your time, Mr Varys, you have been very helpful. I hope you have a pleasant rest of your day."

Going to retreat from the room, Brienne was prevented from leaving by Mr Varys, who froze her in place with his saccharine tone once more. "For your information, I don't think he will be successful."

"In what?" asked Brienne confusedly, turning back to look at the editor.

"Building a case against Cersei," replied Varys, smiling at her falsely, "because if there is one thing that I know having worked in this business for twenty five years, is that there is one secret that has been better kept than all the others."

Brienne narrowed her eyes at him, equal parts fearful and intrigued. "What secret?"

Varys' smile grew. "Whatever Joanna Marbrand has on Tywin Lannister is _explosive_."

Gulping, Brienne tried to stop her heart beating frantically in her chest. "What is it?" she asked, her voice quiet. 

_What could be so damaging to Tywin Lannister that it could prevent Jaime taking on Cersei in a court of law?_

At that question, Varys let out a little titter of laughter. "Oh, Ms Tarth, as a gossip columnist, I would pay all the gold in Casterly Rock to find out. But, alas, my Little Birds haven't told me."

"Then I'm sure it's nothing," declared Brienne, trying to reassure herself more than convince Varys, "if even _you_ can't find out what it is."

"Let's hope so," purred Varys. "Let's hope so... for dearest Jaime's sake."

* * *

After confronting Mr Varys, Brienne made her way back to their apartment, sure that was where Jaime had gone to begin to piece together his case against Cersei. As she had only had a few hours’ sleep in the library, Brienne felt exhausted, and was now ragged and rundown from spending most of the morning chasing him around town; from the airport, to the solicitors, to the editor's and home again. She did not know what she would do when she saw him. Half of her wanted to wring his neck, the other kiss him senseless.

On re-entering the apartment, Brienne discovered the place was a mess. The lounge area was covered in papers that Jaime had got from _Peckledon & Payne Solicitors _detailing the exact legal situation of the surrogacy, while the most recent copy of _The Daily Whisperer_ had been ripped up, with the most salient parts pinned up on a notice board. The TV was on, turned up to full volume, playing out Cersei's dramatic affair on one of the Entertainment Channels. It looked as if some formerly orderly and dedicated Private Investigator had lost his mind over a case that had haunted him for years.

Jaime himself was sat on the sofa, typing furiously on his laptop, still wearing the clothes he had been in the day before. He only snapped his pretty head up when Brienne noisily chucked her bag down by the front door. Yet that was not the end of his reactions as, when she moved towards him, a huge smile broke across his features, and he abandoned his laptop on the coffee table in order to get to his feet.

"Brienne! You'll never guess what I did! I went to see Cersei at the airport, and I told her I was going to fight her for turnip! I told her she couldn't continue to behave however she wanted to anymore; that she would make a terrible mother, because she doesn't care about turnip in the slightest, and that turnip is more your baby, Brienne, than she has ever been hers. If she thinks she can take my daughter away from me, she is surely wrong, because I'll get all the evidence together to make the courts see that she is unfit to be a mother."

"Jaime..."

"She has repeatedly cheated on me and hurt me, and doesn't care anything about turnip..."

"Jaime, listen..."

"In fact, turnip is _yours_ , turnip is _ours,_ because we are the ones who have been here preparing for her arrival, we are the ones who care about her, we are the ones who care about each other enough to give her a happy home, to be a family, to be..."

Even though Jaime's face was lit up in excitement, Brienne had had enough of impossible dreams.

"But she's not my baby, though, is she?" Brienne shouted suddenly, the horrible truth that she had been trying to work around for months ripping free of her chest in response to Jaime's constant hectoring. "She's your baby with Cersei! _Your baby!_ Jaime, it's frankly downright cruel that you keep bringing me into this, keep trying to bend reality to whatever you want it to be, because she's _not_ mine, and never has been mine, whatever you say."

At Brienne's outburst, Jaime's joy dissipated instantly, and he moved towards her, grasping at her arms in an effort to comfort her. "Hush, my love. It will be alright, I promise. I'm sure there are ways round these documents you've signed..."

"How can there be?" Brienne cried, the anger she did not know she was in possession of erupting out of her all at once. "And what does it matter if there is? Cersei is still the baby's biological mother, Cersei is the one who you've shared your life with, Cersei..."

Jaime shook his head, looking a little hurt by Brienne's outburst. "So what if Cersei is turnip's biological mother? You are the one who has done all the hard work, has that physical connection with her, feels more apart of all this than anyone else. I care about you, Brienne, and if you want to be turnip's mother I will make it happen..."

That was a step too far considering the day Brienne had just had.

"How can you claim you care about me?" Brienne hissed, her fury growing in every word. "You've spent so long wrapped up in you and Cersei that you've barely given me a second thought all morning! You've answered none of my calls..."

"I'm sorry, my phone was out of charge, I missed them..."

"...even after you sent me that cryptic message that I have no idea what to make of. And then you had me running around the city looking for you, wondering what the hell you were doing with Cersei, and if you were going to break your own neck in search of Podrick and Varys..."

Seeing her distress, Jaime moved forward to touch her.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he said, cupping her face with his hands, his skin warm and soft against her cheeks. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to worry you, it's just there might be a way out of all this mess..."

"You could have _told_ me what you were doing," she sobbed, the tears beginning to roll down her cheeks. "This is too much stress for me, Jaime! I'm pregnant, I have a busy job at Seaworth's, and I am trying to finish my thesis, and yet I've spent all morning running around King's Landing after you! It's too much!"

"Brienne, I'm sorry," he said ardently, moving closer, his breath hot on her face.

"This isn't how it's meant to be," she sniffed, the tears now falling in earnest. "I thought we were meant to care about one another. I thought we were meant to be platonic soulmates." At Brienne's statement, Jaime's expression shifted slightly from imploring to soft. His cheeks went a little red and his eyes seemed a brighter green than they ever had before. With his hands still on her face, he spoke, his voice gruff.

"I don't think we are platonic soulmates."

"Yes we are," Brienne insisted, her heart breaking that Jaime would take even that small piece of him away from her. "Of course we are. We care for each other, we...

"Then prove it," he interrupted, his eyes bright, his voice little more than a whisper.

There was something dangerous in the air.

"What?"

"Prove that you and me are platonic," he implored, just at the moment that Brienne realised that Jaime was very, _very_ close to her, nearer than he had ever been before. In spite of herself, her eyes dropped to look at his lips - pink and perfect - before meeting his gaze once more.

The air seemed to burn.

"I..."

She never got to finish her sentence, however, as at that moment, Jaime pulled her face towards him and smashed her lips against his own. The effect was instantaneous, as Brienne felt like she had been lit up like a firework, suddenly launched high into the sky to a place where the world below seemed perfect and wonderful.

Moaning into his mouth, Brienne brought his bottom lip between her teeth, sucking on the little cut she found there to soothe it. In response, Jaime pulled her close to him so that their bodies were flush together; his hard chest pushing against her swollen breasts. Even though there were layers of clothes between them, the prospect of his naked chest so close had a palpable effect on her sensitive nipples.

The clothes did not last for long. Once Brienne had put her hands in Jaime's hair, mussing up the perfect golden mane as she had longed to do since she first met him, he teased his way into her mouth with his tongue, and then began working on getting her belt undone. In a moment Brienne joined him, pushing him away so she could pull off his shirt and run her hands across his chest and over his arms and onto the little sword that marked him as hers.

"Brienne," he moaned, desperate for her, until he pulled her in for another kiss once more; this time hot and passionate and much too overwhelming for Brienne to make any sense of it. "Brienne, oh my love, _Brienne_."

 _We've got so much to talk about,_ thought Brienne distantly, before Jaime stuck one hand up her shirt, exploring the soft skin of her back and side with adventurous fingers.

 _Later,_ she told herself, _much later, because this feels so perfect..._

"Brienne," he said again, calling her back to him; this time a prayer, a devotion. His fingers jumped to the buttons on her shirt, desperate and ferocious, not caring when he broke one of them off or when he pinched her in his haste to throw the shirt away. Brienne found she did not care much either, especially when she was finally free of the shirt, and he dropped his mouth to her chest; sucking, kissing, and biting at her aching breasts until she was begging, until she was shouting his name.

"Jaime," she cried, her prayer a reflection of his own, "Jaime please... _please..."_

In that moment, burning with all the desire for him she had suppressed for months and months and _months_ , Brienne found it so easy to ask for Jaime without words.

They were soulmates, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is no doubt going to be controversial, but I hope you enjoyed it! I would love to hear what you think in a comment or kudos <3


	20. Part XX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne and Jaime react to what has happened between them...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys.
> 
> So, after last chapter got a lot more intense reaction than I was expecting, I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint. I am going to hold back on answering comments for the moment, because I am a little overwhelmed and hope this chapter will answer some concerns about the last one. I hope you enjoy, and still appreciate any feedback I get.
> 
> Before diving in here, I should say I am not a fan of the idea of soulmates, and set out to subvert expectations (ha) for what a story about soulmarks should include with this fic. I've never seen Jaime and Brienne as a pair who are soulmates, but people who choose to be together and choose to be better for one another. They compliment each other, rather than complete each other. Actually, I think that GRRM uses the JC relationship to ridicule the idea of romantic soulmates altogether; because Jaime and Cersei think they are "destined" for one another, it allows room for their relationship to become toxic and abusive, as neither seems themselves as truly whole.
> 
> In this fic, I am trying to make Jaime and Cersei's relationship as true to canon as possible; Cersei is a raging narcissist who does manipulate and abuse Jaime for her own ends, and in the books he is still in the middle of coming out from under that shadow and working out how his relationship with Cersei has effected his life. I think, in the future, Jaime and Brienne will struggle in their romance because of his past with Cersei and her self-esteem issues. I am trying to replicate that here. The way I see it, a lot of Jaime's behaviour towards Brienne up to now in this fic has been driven by his relationship with Cersei and what he thinks love is (versus what it actually is). I hope you like the way I explore that in future chapters because I think I still have a long way to go with this fic and telling the story I want to tell.
> 
> I hope you like it.

_We are soulmates,_ Brienne thought, as the two of them staggered in the direction of their bedrooms, not wanting to break the kiss, not wanting to end the searing heat between them, not wanting to stop.

 _We are soulmates,_ Brienne thought, as he ripped off her clothes and bruised her sensitive skin with kisses that she had long hungered for, desired, and now found herself lost in. He was Jaime and she was Brienne; this was how it was meant to be, washed away by a tide of passion that neither of them had control over, neither of them could say no to.

 _We are soulmates,_ Brienne thought, as Jaime pulled her in the direction of his bedroom door, his hands growing tight in her hair as he moved her, clearly relishing the direction this was going in.

In spite of the fact Brienne wanted it too - wanted _him_ \- she pushed back against Jaime's demanding hands. If they were going to do this, there was no way she was going to allow him to have her on the very same bed he had had Cersei only hours before, that she had been forced to listen to him...

 _No,_ she told herself. _Stay in the moment. Jaime is your soulmate. This is meant to be perfect. You've wanted this for months. Don't think about him and Cersei. He's here with you._

Moving her hands to his shoulders, Brienne tried to alter their direction so that they were heading to her bedroom instead. In there, they could make it about _them_ and the feelings that had been growing between them while they had shared their lives over the previous months, not about the fact that she was simultaneously agitated with him for making her run all over town and overwhelmed with relief that he had not got back with Cersei. And him? He was probably feeling lost and confused after his whole life had been ripped from under his feet, worried about the baby, worried about...

"Jaime," she said gently, pulling away from him.

"Mmm?" he replied, clearly not wanting to stop kissing so he began to run a train down her bare neck, working on a particular patch of freckles until her made her skin blush pink.

"Jaime," she said again, this time more admonishingly, hoping to get him to see that they were both being a little crazy. "Stop a second, will you?"

Heeding her request, Jaime stepped back, even as his eyes continued to burn lustfully. "What's the matter?" he asked, his hands still in her hair.

"What are we doing?" she asked, her voice small.

Jaime cocked an eyebrow at her, all entitled arrogance. "I think it's pretty obvious, don't you?"

He dived in for another kiss at that, but she pushed him away again. "Why?" she asked, searching his expression for something approximating the truth. "Why are we doing this _now_?"

"Because I want you," he said simply, his green eyes trained on her like he was the hunter and she his prey. When he said it again, his voice was hoarse. "I _want_ you."

"Yesterday you wanted Cersei," she said, her desire dissipating as her distance from him lengthened.

All the hope and desire disappeared from Jaime's face quite suddenly as Brienne spelled out his desires, so he moved his hands to her cheeks, clearly trying to hold onto the spiralling heated moment that had caught alight so quickly and was now threatening to be reduced to ash. "I was wrong," he vowed, his voice growing more passionate with every word. "Wrong and stupid and blind... I want _you;_ I know that now. I was aroused at the birthing class by you, we are more than friends, and I've loved you for months and months and only just noticed."

Memories of the night before came back, of her own heart breaking at the sound of Jaime and Cersei, entwined, of her conversation with Lyanna about what she should do next. The wise Stark had told her perhaps she should take a step back, reconsider what she needed, and yet here Brienne was, half-naked with Jaime outside the bedroom in which he had taken Cersei only hours previously.

As that light was switched on, Brienne stepped away from him, her desire suddenly seeming wrong, dirty, and a little foolish. "What's so different about today?" she asked, even as her eyes rolled over him, this perfect, beautiful man who her soulmark told her she was made for.

 _If we are soulmates, shouldn't this all just work?_ she thought. _Shouldn't this be easy? Shouldn't the universe just come into alignment and just let Jaime and I just be together?_

_Then why does this feel so... strange?_

"Nothing," said Jaime, a smile growing on his face. "Everything."

Brienne had to suppress the urge to roll her eyes. "Don't use all that poetic bullshit on me, Jaime, not after everything that has gone on between us. I need you to be honest. What is different about today?"

His mouth fell open for a moment but then he shut it as he began to truly think about her question. "I don't know but... I'd like to not think about _why_ at the moment. I'd just like to _act."_

As that truth sunk in, the heat of desire coursing through Brienne's veins was replaced by an uncomfortable coolness evoked by her realisation. _This isn't about me, or us,_ she thought. _This is about him._

_Whatever this moment is, it is not about what we feel for each other. It's not a culmination of our feelings for one another, or even about me as a person._

_This is about him._

Hastily picking up her abandoned shirt from the floor, Brienne pulled it across her breasts, suddenly feeling very naked. "Does it even matter to you that it is me you are doing this with?

Jaime furrowed his brow, slightly outraged. "What?"

"Well, if you want to just _act_ , why does it have to be me? It could be any random woman, anybody at all. Even Cersei."

"No," he insisted, trying to step forward towards her once more, but Brienne moved back. At her obvious retreat, he flinched. "It couldn't be anyone else. I can only do it with women I love."

"You loved Cersei yesterday," she said simply. "I'll ask you again. What's different about today?"

Jaime went to speak but, to his surprise, his words ran dry. "I... I... I..." As Jaime continued to stare at Brienne confusedly, not sure what to say, she took the initiative and started to gather her clothes up from the floor, putting them on as quickly as possible. "Brienne, what are you doing?"

"Getting dressed," she said firmly, "because this is madness, caused by the fact that you are het up and confused because you haven't slept and you've just broke up with Cersei, and I'm all high on pregnancy hormones!"

"That's not why," declared Jaime shaking his head, before stepping forward and seizing Brienne's hand. "I love you, Brienne. I do, I..."

"Yet you loved Cersei yesterday," she said again, pulling her hand away from him. "You told me that you were confused about your feelings for me, and you fucked Cersei on the bed you are trying to take me to. Can't you see that's majorly screwed up?"

"I'm not the only one naked here," he snapped, suddenly irritated that she seemed to be the one launching the inquisition. "You wanted this too."

She couldn't deny it; moments ago, she had been burning for him. Now, she was cold. "Yes, but the difference is I haven't been confused about my feelings for you before today, Jaime. I've just been hiding them."

To her surprise, that caused Jaime to break into a big, elated grin. "You have?"

"Of course I have," replied Brienne, giving him a soft smile. "Yet I thought that you and me most probably would never happen, because you told me you were always going to put Cersei first."

"I was lying to myself," he said swiftly, obviously wanting to convince both him and her, "and in the process I was lying to you. I just wanted to believe what I thought was love was real. I thought I was the Warrior and Cersei was the Maid, but all the time she was the Stranger, hiding her true face from my gaze."

"I thought I told you none of that poetic bullshit," said Brienne, letting out a breath of bitter laughter.

"It's not poetic bullshit, it's the truth," Jaime replied, gazing at her ardently. "I thought I loved Cersei, I was wrong, and now I realise it was _you,_ because we share a soulmark. It's kinda destined, don't you think? We're two halves of a whole."

And there it was, the reason why Brienne had always slightly resented being branded by a soulmark bubbled to the surface. "No, we're not," she said quietly, putting her arm into her shirt sleeve. "I told you before; I'm a whole person, all on my own. I don't need anyone to complete me."

"I know you are," said Jaime quickly, clearly desperate to placate her, "you don't need me; you are magnificent and great and wonderful on your own. It's just... you and me, it's just felt so right since the beginning. You care about me, Brienne, and I care about you and I just... need someone to care about me right now, you know?"

His voice cracked in such a beautiful, artless way that Brienne wanted to bundle him into her arms and tell him it would all be alright, that they would find a way to fix this ungodly mess. However, she knew to have him so close would just set her alight once more, so she held back. "I _do_ care about you, Jaime, but having sex won't prove that. It won't make either of us feel any better; I'll just be left wondering if you really mean it, and then for you us starting something will become totally entangled with you ending it with Cersei. It will make things even messier than they already are, and it wouldn't be a good decision."

In order to show him she meant it, Brienne began doing up the buttons on her shirt, and that seemed to send Jaime into a panic. "Brienne," he groaned, reaching out to touch her. When she denied him once more, his voice choked. "I need you to know that I meant this. I want you... I love you..."

"You can't know what you feel yet," Brienne told him firmly. "You haven't slept, you just broke up with Cersei, you've been running around the city all morning trying to find a way to protect turnip. You can't be in your right mind..."

"Listen to me, Brienne..."

"I understand why you want this because, gods, I want this too, but just because you desire me in the heat of the moment doesn't mean this is the right thing to do, that this is the right time to give into our lust..."

"This isn't lust..."

"Of course it is Jaime!" cried Brienne. "Because we've been in this apartment together for months and months denying the truth to one another and now, in a moment of madness, we've given into it..."

"That's not what is going on at all!" declared Jaime, his voice growing louder with every word, unsure as to why she was not putting the same picture together as he was.

As he increased his volume, Brienne looked at him confusedly, baffled that he seemingly saw this as the culmination of some great love story, when the day before he had been all over Cersei. Wanting Cersei. Loving Cersei. "Then please enlighten me," begged Brienne, holding her hands out imploringly, "what in Seven Hells is going on?"

The truth burst out of Jaime so fast that he almost got whiplash. "I know what I feel, it's just for once, I just want to be in control of my own goddamn life!" he groaned, his admission ricocheting into the air like a long caged bird, finally free and heading for the sky. "For once, I want to make a choice about what I want that's not on Cersei's terms or mandated by my father. Yesterday I didn't have any control; it was all about what Cersei wanted from me and what I could do for her. I don't want that anymore. I want some goddamn agency in my own life, to write my own future and have it be what _I_ want, whatever I want."

"And how do you know you want me?" asked Brienne, catching his passionate feelings and pushing them right back at him. "Most people would think the idea of you and me is ridiculous, the idea of you _choosing_ me is ridiculous."

"But we're _soulmates,"_ said Jaime, as if the word were imbued with all the majesty of the stars. "There's nothing ridiculous about it at all."

At that statement, Brienne really looked at him as if she truly saw him for the first time, wondering whether Jaime Lannister understood that he was just a walking mess of contradictions barely held together by skin and bone. "I thought you said you wanted to make a choice that was yours and yours alone," said Brienne gently. "How is going along with whatever destiny has planned for you doing that, exactly?"

For a moment, Jaime seemed to consider her proposition, and a flash of terror briefly crossed his beautiful features. Yet he managed to recover himself. Stepping forward, he grasped her hand and pulled it to her chest. "I know what I want now. I see it clearly. Cersei has done nothing but make me feel small, yet with you it all feels so right. I know what I want, Brienne, and it's _you_."

As Jaime stared at her with all the fervent passion of a hero from a song, Brienne considered his offer, recognising that he looked every inch the knight in shining armour who was meant to sweep in some time in the second act to win the fair lady’s hand. But then she remembered. This wasn't a story; this was real life, and she had choices.

"But I don't know what _I_ want, Jaime," she said gently, pulling her hand away and then disguising the rejection by beginning to do up her belt. "I got swept up in the moment because I was worried about you and there's been so much tension between us for months, but now it has actually happened this just feels impulsive and like we are jumping in with two feet first without thinking anything through. Yesterday you were with Cersei, and today you are saying you love me. I need time to process this, time to consider, time to think about what I want."

Even as the hope dimmed in his eyes, Jaime nodded, stepping back. "Of course, I understand. It's all very... sudden."

"I need control over my life too," she declared, determined to make her presence felt in their relationship in a way it had not been before, "because this is not just about deciding I want you, it's also committing to everything that comes with you; your break up with Cersei, and your father, and the fact that apparently you make crazy impulsive decisions based on how you feel in the moment."

"They are things I do for love," replied Jaime, his voice bitter and resentful once more.

"I know," said Brienne sadly, "I _know_ they come from the right place, but sometimes they hurt all the same. Like Hyle; you've been trying to get in the way of my relationship with him from the moment it started."

"Because I was too blind and stupid to see that I was jealous," said Jaime imploringly, holding his hands out in an echo of cupping her face. "I could see that he was wrong for you, because he's not _me_ , so I went about ruining it in a petty, ridiculous way."

"I can see why you did it, but that's not your decision to make," replied Brienne firmly but gently, picking his shirt up off the floor and handing it to him. "Jaime, I'm not angry with you, but I need time to think this through... to work out what I want, what we both want."

Nodding sadly, Jaime took the shirt from her, holding it between tense fingers. "Of course, I understand. I'm sorry I've been so... intense."

"It's been an intense day," replied Brienne, giving him a half-smile. "Look, I'm going to go and get some fresh air and clear my head, but we can continue to talk about this later when we've both slept and are not so worked up. Is that okay?"

"Of course," Jaime said again, not quite meeting her eye, "that sounds entirely sensible."

"That's because it is," she smiled, complete with a little laugh.

Accepting her conditions, Jaime began to put his shirt on, and it was only when it was completely buttoned up that he looked up at her once more. "So, I suppose I'll see you later. Will you want dinner?"

Brienne shook her head. "No, don't worry. I don't know how long I will be. I'll sort myself out when I get back."

* * *

Given everything that had happened, there was only one place that Brienne felt like she wanted to go; Sansa's. As ever, her best friend was armed with a listening ear, a cupboard full of relaxing teas, and a way of making all the correct _ooh_ and _ahh_ sounds at the appropriate moments in the story. Brienne found it all intensely comforting to lay it all out to someone who was on the outside looking in, to someone who could accurately evaluate if she was becoming entangled up with emotion or bogged down with logic.

"I think you've done the right thing," said Sansa, taking a sip of camomile tea. "Jaime has gone from naught to one hundred in zero seconds flat and hasn't given any real thought on what the two of you getting it on will actually mean going forward. I mean, to a certain extent I understand; he's emotional and has had no sleep, he's broken up with his girlfriend and she's threatened to take the baby away, so I can see _why_ he wanted a bit of comfort, but still. It's too fast."

"Thank you," replied Brienne gratefully, happy her friend was seeing it in the same way as her. "He just seems to think that because we are soulmates it will all be fine and will all work itself out, but that just doesn't seem right to me. He thinks he needs me to feel complete, but it's just unfair to put that all on me. I can barely complete myself; I can't be in charge of fixing him too."

Sansa let out a sympathetic laugh at that statement. "I get it. Although these things can seem intensely romantic - being soulmates, someone's other half - maybe you need to think about what you want, and how being with Jaime would realistically fit into your life, especially considering all this Cersei drama."

"That's what your Aunt Lyanna said," smiled Brienne, remembering the considered and thoughtful suggestions the older Stark woman had made. "I should give it some time. Think about what I want."

"Do you want to stay here tonight?" asked Sansa. "It might be easier for you to clear your head here. We could have a girls' night in; I've got a pirate copy of the new _Mean Maidens 2_ if you fancy it."

Brienne nodded happily at Sansa's suggestion; she had not felt relaxed for ages, so that sounded perfect as a way to unwind. "That sounds great, Sansa. Thank you."

"You are welcome," beamed Sansa. "Why don't you finish up your tea and I can pop out and get us some snacks? I can also go around to Jaime's and pick up some pyjamas and a change of clothes for you, if you want."

Brienne almost sighed in gratitude. "Thank you. That would be amazing. I don't think I'm quite ready to face him yet."

"Of course," replied Sansa, getting up from the sofa and going to pick up her coat. "I'll get you a nice change of clothes and some snacks. I shouldn't be long. Why don't you go upstairs and have a shower while you are waiting? The hot water is still on."

After a few more exchanged pleasantries, Sansa gave Brienne one more friendly smile and left for Jaime apartment, armed with strict instructions to get Brienne's blue tracksuit and her pineapple pyjamas. Once Sansa was gone, Brienne immediately did what her best friend suggested and went to have a shower. Considering the day she had had, Brienne's whole body ached, and she desired nothing more than to just wash away her worries with warm water.

Luckily for Brienne, Sansa had said that she could use her expensive lavender body wash so, once she was in the shower, Brienne wasted no time in lathering it into her skin trying to forget how it felt to have Jaime's kisses all over her.

 _I wonder how he's doing?_ she thought as the water sluiced over her back. _It's been a tough day for him, what with what has gone on with Cersei, and he might need and friend, he might need me..._

 _No,_ she reminded herself, _just because we share a soulmark it does not mean we have to be all over one another. Jaime is his own person, just as I am. We both need time. We both need space. We both need a moment to ourselves._

_Perhaps I will text Tyrion, though, and tell him Jaime could probably do with a friend right now. Someone who loves him, who is not me._

After she finished washing, Brienne got out of the shower and began to dry herself, wrapping a towel around her head and another around her body. For the first time that day, she finally felt all the tension leave her body. In a strange way, it felt like a reward.

 _I have time,_ she told herself, _and so does Jaime. We can work this out, talk it through. We need to understand what it means to be "soulmates", as well as how to deal with the fact that I am not turnip's biological mother, and Cersei may play any number of tricks to take her from Jaime._

_But we have time. We have..._

Just then, a bolt of pain ripped through Brienne's stomach, almost like a vividly intense menstrual cramp. Reaching down, she grabbed her belly, and noticed it felt a little hard under her hand. Even though the feeling passed several moments later, once it had departed, Brienne was once again feeling tense and stressed about something out of her control.

 _What was that?_ she thought, panic rising in her throat.

_What was that?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading my story.


	21. Part XXI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime ruminates on recent events...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, thanks everyone for coming back! I hope you enjoy this chapter and it is a little break from the chaos of the last few :)

When the door slammed shut behind Brienne, Jaime slumped onto the sofa and put his head in his hands, trying not to cry.

 _Father wouldn't want me to cry,_ Jaime told himself. _Crying is for weak people, for people who don't have control, for people who have given up being captains of their own souls..._

He took a few deep staggering breaths and imagined his father, angry, telling him to pull himself together. It did not work, however, as Jaime could not prevent the tears from falling, nor the choked sobs that escaped his mouth when thinking about the events of the last day.

 _What have I done?_ he thought madly. _What have I done? I've ruined everything._

In the space of a few short hours, Jaime's whole life had crumbled around him. Everything he had been working for in trying to build a family with Cersei now lay in ruins around his feet; him and Cersei were no longer together, the wedding was off, and she was actively attempting to get sole custody of turnip. And then there was Brienne, who had run away when she saw how brightly his feelings burned.

 _I would have too,_ he thought sadly. _She's right. I've been acting like a maniac. Yesterday I was all over Cersei, and now I am filled to the brim with love for my Baby Mama? It_ is _insane._

Wanting a distraction from the pain that was eating at him, Jaime turned his attention to the TV, which was still showing the destruction of his life in vivid colour. While the host was discussing Cersei's affair, a trailer for the upcoming season of _The Sand Snakes_ was playing out on the screen _._ Cersei was wearing a long red dress - well, it could hardly be called a dress - and lustfully gazing at her co-star, Robert Baratheon, as he entered the frame.

 _She looks as if she wants to eat him,_ thought Jaime.

Barely paying any attention to the commentary, Jaime just watched as the entertainment news span through clips of Cersei in a hundred different roles; Cersei in _The Pirates of the Narrow Sea,_ all swashbuckling girl power, Cersei in _The Storm God_ as an angry defender of her ancestral home, Cersei in _Florian and Jonquil_ playing a simpering young maiden. In every single role she did the same thing; pout, make her eyes twinkle, and flip her hair. Following each and every one of those roles, critics had said the audience was captivated by her beauty, but her acting was a bit lacklustre; every time, Cersei had come home with fury in her eyes and scream at Jaime until she soothed her, saying the critics were idiots, wrong, and she was the most talented actress in the universe.

That Cersei was so different from the person she appeared to be when interviewed by the press - so sweet and humble - nothing like the woman he knew in real life. The _real_ Cersei Marbrand was all wildfire and demands, burning in her ambitious pursuit of fame and power. In the first few months of their relationship, when it was all animal sex, Jaime had called it passion. Then, when she went off to film another movie and then a TV show, he filled in the gaps by taking pieces of her characters and sewing them together to make her a dress. When Cersei returned to him, Jaime forced her into it, even though it did not quite fit. He liked Alysanne Swann's feistiness in _The Pirates of the Narrow Sea_ so had seen it in the way Cersei bossed him around in bed. Argella Durrandon's bravery in _The Storm Queen_ was admirable, so Jaime placed it on Cersei's stubborn, resistant pout when he told her he was too tired for sex right now. Most of all, Jaime had adored Jonquil's sweetness and innocence in _Florian and Jonquil._ When Cersei looked at him as she came down from her high, Jaime imagined he saw it all in her green eyes, just before she rolled over and turned away from him after sex.

The real Cersei Marbrand barely figured at all.

 _Was that all I was?_ he thought sadly. _A member of her fawning audience, putting a star I barely knew on a pedestal?_

Thinking back further, Jaime tried to compare Cersei to the only other romantic relationship he had ever had in his life. Melara Hetherspoon was not someone his father had chosen for him. She had been a barista at the coffee shop near the expensive photography college his father had paid Jaime to go to in Highgarden. When Melara caught his eye, Jaime had been twenty two and nervous of the fact he was still an unkissed virgin. It wasn't that he did not have opportunities but, after the Tysha debacle, there was no way Jaime wanted his father to know that he was interested in someone so apparently beneath him. So, he found it easy to adopt a lazy disinterest, and pretend he did not care, when all he really wanted to do was kiss someone he cared about and have them love him back.

Yet, Melara had broken through his barriers. In the evenings, he had taken his laptop down to the coffee shop to work on his coursework for his portfolio. Melara had always been there with a kind smile and a free coffee, ready to listen as he panicked about his work and his promise to his father that if he failed at this, he would go to business school. They had first kissed in quiet of the coffee shop, her hands on his face, and then a few days later she had taken his virginity in her bed in the student halls. After they had finished, Jaime had muffled his tears in her pillow. He had not been expecting kindness - his father had told him that no one woman would ever want him for himself, only money grabbing whores who wanted him for his money - yet here Melara was, kissing him, saying she wanted to go on more dates with him, telling him they had a future together.

That had not stopped her taking his father's money, of course, when Tywin Lannister wanted their budding relationship ended. Yet, for a few weeks, Melara had made Jaime feel as if kindness and compassion from one's lover was possible, and it was not just a thing that happened in films. Perhaps that was what made it all the more painful when it turned out to be a lie. Yet, Jaime could not help but hunger for that burst of emotion again so, when his father had made the arrangement for him to walk the red carpet with Cersei Marbrand, he had told himself repeatedly that he had a chance of real love with her, because the alternative was being shut out from it forever.

It had become a rhythm, a song, that he had sung every day, just to remind himself.

_I love Cersei. I love Cersei. I love Cersei._

And yet, it was a lie. A complete lie. He had been in love with Cersei Marbrand, the version he so longed to see, because the alternative was breaking up, angering his father, and finding his own woman who quickly could be turned into another Tysha. It was because it was a lie that it had so easily died once he had been reunited with the real Cersei; the woman who held him down, made him have sex when he did not really want to, and told him he was a crap photographer and only good for one thing.

 _Brienne would never say that,_ he thought dreamily as he turned the TV off. _Brienne would never be so cruel._

In fact, she had said he was a talented photographer multiple times, and even told Lance Jannister so when she did not know it was him. When they were together, she didn't laugh at him or call him stupid, broken and useless. Instead, she had told him he was full, complete, and whole.

_Wonderful because you are so individually you. You don't need Cersei to fill in your gaps._

Brienne had been right, of course, but Jaime had not listened as he was so enamoured with the lies that he told himself. The alternative to continual untruths had been to tear it all down with Cersei, fall out with his father, and bring turnip into a fractious and terrible circumstance, after all, so he had kept repeating those lies over and over. He had blotted out the truth of their soulmarks, and the fact that he loved Brienne for her sweetness, innocence, and kindness, and the way she touched him sometimes as if he were a precious thing to be treasured.

 _Do I love her?_ he asked himself, turning the question over and over in his mind. _Or is this just another decision I am forcing myself into because of a soulmark on my arm?_

It was her blue eyes he thought about as he fell asleep, her gentle hands as she pushed him away, stopping their kiss, and her probing questions that he did not have any answers to.

When he woke up, the host on the entertainment news website was still talking through Cersei's various indiscretions, allowing Jaime to discover that not only had his ex-girlfriend been fucking Robert Baratheon, but also Lancel, Jaime's cousin who worked in PR, Osney Kettleblack the stunt double, Osmund Kettleblack the stunt double's brother, Osfryd Kettleblack the stunt double's _other_ brother, and even Taena, her Personal Assistant, who Cersei abused even more virulently than she had ever abused...

 _Abused?_ thought Jaime slowly, the world dawning on him brighter by the second. _Did I just use the word abused in relation to Cersei?_

Getting to his feet, Jaime wanted to feel the full extent of his body, taking up space and owning it. He was not a victim; he refused to frame himself as a victim.

 _Cersei couldn't have abused me,_ he told himself, _because I'm a man and she's a woman... and... and..._

He turned back to the TV, watching Robert Baratheon being surrounded by reporters, telling them all to _PISS OFF_ in capital letters.

 _Fuck, I need to get an STD test,_ he thought, before laughing bitterly. _She's slept with everyone in Dorne, including Robert Baratheon, and he's slept with everyone in Westeros. How could I have thought I loved her? How could I have thought I cared for her, even for a moment?_

Just then, the mainline phone rang. Sighing, Jaime went to answer it, not liking that his epiphany was being interrupted. He liked it even less when he heard who was calling.

"I've landed in Dorne."

"I don't care."

"You should."

"Why?"

"Because you love me."

Jaime scoffed. "It's amazing how long you can live a lie when you repeat it to yourself every day."

"Jaime, we can get through this..."

"What? You sleeping with Robert Baratheon, Osney and Osmund, and even fucking Taena? You're delusional Cersei. You tried to force me to marry you before all this got out. You wanted to trap me. Why would I ever forgive you for that?"

"I wasn't trying to trap you," she said, using a sugar coated tone. "People do crazy things when they're in love."

"You don't have to tell me," replied Jaime bitingly. "I've done stupid things for love, for _your_ love, but not anymore."

Seemingly sensing Jaime's strength, Cersei started to panic. "Jaime. I love you. I love you. I love you. Come at _once_."

Not wanting to hear anymore sweet lies, or sweet orders, Jaime hung up before unplugging the phone line. Once he sat back down, Jaime exhaled sharply, revelling in his freedom. Making a clear decision on what to think of, his mind went back to Brienne, his soulmate.

 _Do I love her?_ he asked himself again. _Or am I only fixating on her because she's the opposite of Cersei?_

_Do I even know what love is?_

Before going for a shower, Jaime made himself a promise. Brienne was right; he needed to think, to sort his life out. He needed to work out how he could protect turnip. If that meant taking it to the courts, he would. He also needed to make sure everything was alright with Brienne. Even if they weren't going to be together in that way, Jaime knew he still needed to be there for Brienne, in any way she wanted him.

And lastly, he really needed to work out what he felt for Brienne.

_Is it love? Or have I just lost my mind?_

* * *

Even though the question still haunted him while he washed, after he got out of the shower, Jaime felt a little more refreshed, so went to put on a new change of clothes. Afterwards, he went to get some food and, once he had scoffed down a bowl of cereal, he felt infinitely better. More alive.

 _Brienne was so right,_ he thought. _We need to think more clearly about what we want and doing it in the heat of the moment is..._

Interrupting his thoughts once again, his mobile phone rang loudly on the other side of the room and, spotting it was Brienne calling even from that distance, Jaime dropped his bowl and dashed over, his heart pounding wildly in his chest.

"Brienne!" he cried the second he answered. "You called me! I am so happy you did! You are so right, we should take time to think, to talk this out, to work out what we really want..."

"This isn't Brienne," came a familiar voice. It took Jaime a moment to work out who it was.

"Sansa?" he said, shocked, slowly putting the pieces together. "What are you doing calling me on Brienne's phone?"

On the other end of the line, Sansa took a deep breath. "I needed to call you and I don't have your number... we should probably do something about that."

Even though that was an eminently sensible suggestion, Jaime was too worried to agree. "Why? Is there something wrong with Brienne?" he asked, trying and failing to keep the fear out of his voice.

"She's had some stomach pains..."

"Oh gods, is she alright? Is turnip alright? Where are you? I'll come find you! I'll come help!"

"Calm down," replied Sansa gently. "When she started having them she phoned me, and then I drove her to my mum's house. She's talking it through with my mum now and she'll decide whether she needs to go to hospital."

That made Jaime feel a little better, but he was still worried. "Would you mind if...?"

"If you came here?" asked Sansa. "Of course that's fine. I think Brienne wants to see you, even if... _things_ have happened between you."

Blushing slightly at the thought of Brienne discussing what had passed between them with her best friend, Jaime tried to push down his embarrassment. "Could you send me the address?"

"Yes, I'll do it the second I hang up."

"Brilliant, okay," said Jaime, glad that Sansa trusted him enough to call, especially after he had spent the day being such a monumental dick. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

"She's okay for now, so don't break your neck in trying to get here in your panic. Brienne wouldn't want that."

 _Of course she wouldn't,_ thought Jaime. _She cares._

"Thanks Sansa, I'll see you soon."

"Okay. Bye Jaime."

"Bye."

Hanging up without another word, Jaime moved quickly around the apartment gathering his things together, all thoughts of Cersei washed clean from his mind.

_My girls. Brienne and turnip. My girls need me._

He left as quickly as he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you feel like it, please consider leaving comments or kudos.


	22. Part XXII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne finds out what has caused her pains...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, thanks for coming back! With this one, there are going to be some answers about Brienne's stomach pain, so there is a mention of miscarriage. You have been warned!

Brienne just about managed to swallow her burgeoning panic as she got dried after her shower before it totally overwhelmed her. Breathing deeply, she then perched on the sofa wrapped in a towel, trapped in a fit of nerves until Sansa returned with a change of clothes and snacks.

"As I drove to the shops, I remembered I had those clothes of yours in the boot of my car... oh, what's the matter Brienne?"

With fearful tears hyped up by pregnancy hormones glistening in her eyes, Brienne told Sansa all about the strange, irregular pains she had been having at the front of her belly since getting out of the shower. Sansa listened concernedly, before handing her the change of clothes, and giving her a gentle pat on the shoulder.

"Are you bleeding?" Sansa asked as she rubbed soothing circles into Brienne's back.

"No," replied Brienne quickly, still worried. "Do you think that's a good thing?"

"I'm no expert, but it sounds like a good thing to me," said Sansa with a small smile. "Why don't you go and get changed and then I'll drive you over to my mum's? She'll be able to work out what the problem is and then, if she thinks so, we can go to the hospital. Does that sound like a good plan?"

"It sounds like a good plan," answered Brienne, feeling a tiny bit relieved that Sansa was taking charge of the situation.

Once Brienne was changed, Sansa did what she promised and drove her over to Catelyn's house on the other side of the city. Brienne continued to have a little bit of spasmodic, random pain in her belly as they sat in traffic, but she had to admit it was not getting any worse, or more frequent. It did not seem like a miscarriage - indeed, Brienne _thought_ a miscarriage would be bloody, painful, and traumatic, and it was not that - but it did not feel entirely healthy either. She was worried, but managed to keep terror at bay.

On arriving at Catelyn's, Brienne and Sansa discovered the whole house was in chaos. The building was almost vibrating from the sound of Death Metal coming from upstairs - "Arya must be home," commented Sansa - while in the living room Bran and Rickon were playing _White Wolves 2_ on their PlayStation. Catelyn was singing to herself in the kitchen, something Brienne vaguely recognised from the musical _The Bloody Hand_ , which only contributed to the noise. Consequently, Sansa and Brienne had to walk directly into the kitchen to get her attention. When they got there, they discovered Catelyn was cooking, but she looked up and smiled when she saw them.

"Oh, Sansa, Brienne! I did not expect to see you here today. I thought Gendry would be our only guest for dinner."

"We didn't expect it either," admitted Sansa, "it's just... Brienne has been having some worrying pains and wanted to check it out with you before we went dashing off to the hospital."

At that confession, Catelyn's expression became clouded with concern. "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."

"I'm just anxious I might be having a..." She did not want to say the word.

Sensing her disquiet, Catelyn nodded emphatically, clearly indicating she was ready to hear all her patient's concerns out. "Have you been bleeding?"

"No."

"Good. That's a good sign."

"That's what Sansa said," replied Brienne, taking slow, calming breaths.

"Well, she's picked it up from the best," claimed Catelyn, turning to her daughter with an affection smile. "Sansa, would you mind taking over with dinner while I go and have a quick chat with Brienne? The chicken needs browning, and then the vegetables..."

Sansa rolled her eyes. "Mum, I know how to make your stir fry recipe. I learnt that from the best too."

As Catelyn and Sansa smiled at each other, Brienne could not help but feel a prick of jealousy. Her own mother had died when Brienne was very young, and she barely remembered her. Selwyn Tarth had filled the subsequent years with girlfriends, paramours, and one short lived step-mother - Roelle - but nobody had ever been any type of proper mother to Brienne. Growing up on Tarth, she had been alone in her girlhood.

 _It's a good thing I am not Alys' real mother,_ thought Brienne, _I would have no idea what to do. I would be terrible._

Once Sansa was safely busy mixing the stir fry, Brienne put her handbag down on the dining table and then followed Catelyn through to her little study. While Catelyn took the spot on the wheelie chair by the computer, Brienne sat down in a comfortable armchair, giving the impression of a doctor and a patient, or a therapist and a client. That feeling only continued once they were both sitting comfortably, as Catelyn gave Brienne a concerned, but professional, look. "So Brienne, tell me, when did this pain start?"

"About an hour ago," said Brienne, thinking back, "I had just got out of the shower, and I got this pain in my stomach."

"How would you describe it?" asked Catelyn, putting on her doctor voice.

"Maybe like a particularly sharp menstrual pain," suggested Brienne, "although, if I wasn't only four and a half months gone, I would think that I had gone into labour."

"Mmm," replied Catelyn, considering Brienne's answer. "And I assume you've been getting the pain since?"

Brienne nodded, feeling the fear bubbling to the surface again. "On and off... it's irregular, but it's been coming back. Do you think that is bad?"

Ignoring Brienne's anxiety tinged question, Catelyn ploughed on with her own. "And have the times you experience the pain been getting closer together? Or remained irregular."

"Irregular," answered Brienne instantly, which set Catelyn nodding.

"And the pain? Is it at the front of your belly? Or at the back?"

"At the front," said Brienne, resting her hand over the exact spot, "just there."

"And the pain has not been getting any stronger?"

"No, about the same." When Catelyn just continue to nod pensively to Brienne's answer, she tried once more to break the stalemate. "What do you think it is? Should I go to the hospital? Is it something bad?"

Giving her a smile that came from Cat rather than Doctor Catelyn Stark, Catelyn broke the news gently to Brienne. "I think you are experiencing what are known as Braxton Hicks contractions."

Having never heard of them before, not even in her favourite medical drama _Rosby City,_ Brienne just looked at Catelyn confusedly. "What are they?"

"They are sporadic uterine contractions that can be experienced by some mothers during the second or third trimester of pregnancy. They are nothing serious, but they can hurt! The symptoms can sometimes be alleviated by making sure you are properly hydrated, taking a warm bath or by going to the toilet."

Feeling a wave of relief wash over her, Brienne could not help but give Catelyn a crooked smile. "Alys is alright then?"

"Alys?" asked Catelyn, looking at Brienne with a kind but wary expression.

Realising that she had finally voiced the fact that she thought of the baby as more than a thing she had been paid to incubate - as a soon to be living, breathing little girl - Brienne bit her lip nervously. "I mean... the baby is alright?"

Clearly sensing Brienne's discomfort at her slip up, Catelyn reached across and patted her charge's hand. "Yes, the baby is fine."

Taking a few seconds to get herself under control once more, Brienne then began to ask more questions. "Will the contractions come back?" she inquired, a little worriedly. Even though the contractions had apparently not been serious, Brienne had found them scary enough to consider she was going into labour, or having a miscarriage.

"Perhaps, but you can take some preventative measures to forestall them."

"Like what?" asked Brienne, genuinely intrigued.

"Well," began Catelyn, lifting her hand so she could count the ways on her fingers. "You must keep yourself properly hydrated at all times. Baby needs that water as much as you."

"Okay," replied Brienne, kicking herself that she had not been so attentive to those essentials. "Do you think that's what caused the Braxton Hicks contractions then? Me not drinking enough?"

"Perhaps, but there are lots of other possible causes."

"Like what?"

"Have you been particularly physically active today? Because doing too much strenuous exercise can take its toll, as can stress." As Catelyn said it, Brienne felt her heart sink. Chasing Jaime all around King's Landing most definitely constituted _strenuous physical activity,_ while the rest of the day had been nothing but a stressful, chaotic mess, caused by Cersei's arrival and Jaime's impassioned declarations.

 _I brought this on myself,_ Brienne told herself sadly as the pieces fell into place. _I know Braxton Hicks contractions or whatever they are called are not serious, but I could have put Alys in real danger._

 _All for Jaime,_ she thought.

_All for Jaime..._

"Are you sure it couldn't have been anything else?" asked Brienne hopefully, willing there to be a random cause that was totally out of her control, like the Moon being in Jupiter or that she had accidentally eaten too much broccoli.

Catelyn thought about it. "There are some theories that Braxton Hicks contractions can be caused by mothers rubbing their bellies, but I wouldn't stop doing that, because I think it's a nice bonding..."

"I don't want to bond," insisted Brienne swiftly, trying to walk back her earlier mistake of calling the baby _Alys._ "She's not my daughter."

_And Jaime finding some legal way of getting around all those papers I signed won't make her mine, either._

"Of course," nodded Catelyn, realising she had put her foot in it. "Well, if it is not that you have been rubbing your belly too much is it possible that you had sexual intercourse before the contractions started?"

Brienne's mouth dropped open in horror. If today had been a chaotic mess, it had been topped off by her and Jaime desperately ripping each other's clothes of and kissing each other silly until they had come to there senses. It seemed almost cruel that Catelyn might get her to admit to their moment of madness in the safety of her office. "What do you mean by sexual intercourse?"

Catelyn let out an involuntary chuckle. "Didn't you do Sex Ed at school?"

"Of course," mumbled Brienne, "but like... what do you mean by _sex?_ Like full... um... penetrative stuff, or like... I don't know... halfway sex."

"Halfway sex?" asked Catelyn slowly, as if she was talking to a ten year old that she was giving the Birds and the Bees talk. "What's halfway sex?"

Brienne tried to stop herself going bright red, but she only succeeded in failing spectacularly. "You know... kissing and stuff, sort of... second base."

Dropping the Doctor Catelyn Stark person, Cat burst out in the form of an amused smile. "Are you trying to tell me you had _halfway sex_ this afternoon?"

Her face burning with embarrassment, Brienne stumbled over her words. "I mean, I... it's a sort of confusing situation..."

As Brienne continued to babble, Catelyn gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, you don't have to tell me, just be aware that sex is something that can kickstart Braxton Hicks contractions, so you know for the future."

Her mind whirring with images of a half-naked Jaime - kissing her, touching her, and making her feel alive in a way she never had before - Brienne had a real battle to keep her blush down, but she eventually succeeded in replying to Catelyn. "Okay, thank you. As long as you don't think this is serious."

"I don't," smiled Catelyn, "so, perhaps the best thing to do is for us to go back into the kitchen, get you a drink of water, and then you and Sansa could join us for dinner."

Glad the conversation had well and truly swerved off her and Jaime having halfway sex, Brienne could not help but feel the tension leave her shoulders. She was was alright. Alys was alright. And she and Jaime had time to think this all through.

"That sounds like a great plan," Brienne said, feeling as if the weight of the whole world was off her shoulders. "A great plan."

* * *

"ARYA, DINNER IS READY!" bellowed Sansa, just as Bran and Rickon came skidding into the kitchen from the lounge. Catelyn was in the process of serving the stir fry, while Brienne tried to be helpful and lay out the knives and forks.

"What are we having?" asked Rickon, throwing himself into one of the chairs at the dining table.

"Stir fry," replied Catelyn, just as she put it down in front of Rickon.

Bran looked distastefully down at his own plate. "You haven't used that weird paste again, have you?"

"No," said Sansa serenely, but there was something about her expression that made Brienne think she was telling a little white lie. "So it's fine. You can eat your dinner."

Just as Sansa and Brienne had sat down by their portions, Arya and her boyfriend Gendry came into the kitchen, wearing matching _Night's Watch_ band t-shirts. "Oh gods," moaned Arya. "You've not used that weird paste again have you?"

"How many times?" griped Sansa. "I have not used the weird paste! Just sit down and eat your goddamn dinner!"

After a few more minutes of squabbling, Arya demanding water, Sansa asking her what her last slave died of, Rickon wolfing down half his dinner without breathing before anyone else had picked up their cutlery, Catelyn complaining he had no manners, Bran claiming he was psychic, and Gendry looking genuinely terrified, eventually everyone settled down to eat. Brienne had to say that the stir fry was absolutely delicious, and it was nice to just truly relax for the first time in what felt like forever.

That was until the doorbell rang.

As everyone looked at each other confusedly at the interruption, Sansa's eyes went wide before she got to her feet. "I'll get it," she said in a tone so breezy that Brienne found it suspicious.

When Sansa dashed out the room, Arya rolled her eyes. "Seriously, I hope that girl never gets involved in a conspiracy. She would be busted in about ten minutes."

Gendry, Bran, and Rickon started sniggered in agreement with Arya's sentiment but Brienne barely heard, because she was too busy listening to the sounds coming from the hallway. First there was the click of a lock as the door was opened, followed by the sound of a muffled male voice in response to Sansa.

 _He can't be here,_ Brienne thought disbelievingly, as the sound of Sansa and the mystery man and Sansa walking up the hallway became louder and louder. _He can't be..._

But of course, he was.

The moment Jaime Lannister entered the packed Stark kitchen, he seemed to retreat into himself slightly, putting on the arrogant trust fund kind persona he had used when he met him - all cutting smiles and twinkling eyes - that he always adopted around people he did not really know.

"Jaime," said Brienne, dropping her fork in her bafflement. "What are you doing here?"

At Brienne's slightly accusatory question, Jaime gave Sansa a shifty look, leaving Brienne's best friend the job of laying out the facts. "I rang Jaime. I thought it was best he knew about the issues."

"Issues?" chimed in Arya suddenly, eating with her mouth open. "What issues?"

"None of your business," replied Sansa firmly, as Jaime turned to look at Brienne, the trust fund kind immediately melting away as his eyes became filled with all the worry, concern, and general panic Brienne herself had been feeling for the past day.

"When Sansa said I could come," he began tentatively, picking each word carefully, "I didn't want to intrude or anything, I just... wanted to check you were alright. And the baby. I needed to know you were both okay."

There was something so achingly soft buried under Jaime's tone, even as he desperately tried to hide it, that it made some of Brienne's anxiety at seeing him lessen. Yes, they had both run away with themselves in a wild and charged moment, but what formed the bedrock of their relationship was still intact; care for one another, having each other's backs, friendship.

 _That's the most important thing we share,_ she thought, the truth suddenly illuminated for her in his emotion-filled expression. _And I don't want anything to get in the way of that._

"We're fine," she said, picking up the fork. "Catelyn explained everything to me and apparently it's nothing to be worried about. It's called Braxton Hicks contractions or something, and they can be caused by dehydration, being too active and... other things. I know what to look out for now."

Although Brienne smiled at him in a way that she hoped was reassuring, Jaime still looked a little awkward. "Well, if you are sure you are okay..."

"I am," said Brienne gently.

Dropping his eyes to the floor, Jaime started mumbling. "I'll probably go and sit in the car until you need a lift back to the flat..."

As Brienne furrowed her brow in confusion, Catelyn let out a derisive snort. "Don't be silly. I imagine you've barely eaten; Brienne tells me today has been a stressful, in more ways than one. Why don't you stay and have dinner with us?"

 _Thank the gods Jaime doesn't know I told Catelyn about halfway sex,_ Brienne thought, even as she tried to appear casual and normal, _because_ that _was definitely a reference to it. How did she piece together that it was Jaime I was talking about?_

Yet, even though Jaime did not know what Brienne had told Catelyn, he still looked impossibly awkward standing in the Starks kitchen in his expensive clothes and with the bags under his eyes. "Oh, I wouldn't want to impose..." said Jaime quietly, his voice trailing.

"Don't be ridiculous, you wouldn't be imposing," interjected Sansa, getting to her feet and walking back over to the bowl of stir fry on the side. "Do you like stir fry?"

If anything, Jaime looked shocked at Sansa's question. Did he find her friendliness disarming? "Yes. I love stir fry."

"Good," smiled Sansa, pulling him into the warmth and welcome that always came with a Stark family dinner. "Well, why don't you sit down next to Brienne and I'll get you a bowl?"

* * *

There was something about the way that Jaime sat through dinner that made Brienne think he was not used to being at such a rowdy, raucous family gathering, made up of in-jokes, friendly insults, and genuine conversation. Even so, he seemed contented to watch everyone else engage in it. Jaime was especially baffled by Arya, who felt the need to vocalise each and every thought that came into her head and he exchanged shocked looks with Brienne whenever she did so.

"So, are you Jaime Lannister?" asked Arya eventually, turning her sharp tongue to him.

"Yep," he replied, putting his fork down. "Why do you ask?"

"I've never met a billionaire before," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "You look like one."

Brienne could only watch as Jaime looked increasingly awkward at Arya's intrusive questions; she wanted to say something to help him, but did not have the words. Lucky, Jaime seemed in an amenable mood. "Thanks, I guess, but I'm not a billionaire. Only my father is. I'm just a photographer."

"Is that why Cersei went out with you then?" interrupted Gendry suddenly, shovelling food in his mouth, "because of your photography skills? You are pretty famous, after all."

At the mention of Cersei, Brienne stiffened in her chair. It was far too soon for Cersei to be brought up so casually in Jaime's presence; he had not had the time to process the breakup, not had the time to grieve... Given all of those reasons, Brienne was therefore immensely surprised when Jaime retorted with a witty comment. "Oh, I take it you are familiar with the particular photo shoot I did with my ex-girlfriend that broke the internet."

As Gendry went an impossibly deep red, Arya shot him a nasty look before turning back to Jaime. "What Gendry means to say is he's never met someone so rich or famous before. Is that how you managed to persuade Brienne to carry your baby for you? Money?"

Brienne knew Arya did not mean anything by it, but Sansa's little sister had a way of saying things so truthfully that they just sounded awful. Trying to smooth things over, Brienne put on a slightly tense smile and said, "Arya that's..."

"I did pay her, yes," interrupted Jaime smoothly, "but that's only fair. She's giving up a lot for me."

"She is," agreed Arya, her expression hard.

In spite of Arya's tough questioning, Jaime nodded, an easy smile on his handsome face. "I don't think Brienne did it for the money, not really."

At Jaime's statement, Brienne turned around to look at him, surprised that he thought so well of her. In truth, in the early days, she had only considered the offer because she needed to pay for her father's heart medication, but now there were more pressing reasons for it, more emotional ones, less mercantile.

Now there was...

"I think Brienne agreed to it because she genuinely saw a man who really needed someone to love in his life and wanted to give him that. All things considered, I think Brienne did it because she was kind."

Jaime's words were so sweet that Brienne's chest burned with the weight of them. Jaime was looking at her with those deep green eyes so thankfully, so full of admiration, that she could instantly tell he did not want to let the madness of the last day get in the way of what they were. Platonic soulmates.

 _I have to do whatever it takes to make things right between us,_ Brienne told herself, as her heart melted at his gentle smile.

As an encroaching intimacy bloomed between Jaime and Brienne, Sansa made a loud comment about whether anyone had seen the latest episode of _Rosby City,_ allowing the pair of them to shut their conversation off from everyone else and share it between themselves.

"You are going to make a wonderful father," Brienne said quietly, drawing close to him so only he could hear. There was something endearingly sweet about the way he blushed at her words.

"And you are going to make a wonderful mother," Jaime replied passionately, before realising what exactly he had said. "When the times comes, and in whatever way you want to do it. Whether that's with me or not... it's your choice. Take all the time you need."

 _I do need to take my time,_ Brienne thought. _And how did Lyanna say was the best way to do that?_

As the Starks had returned to gossiping, arguing, joking, and laughing, Brienne felt sufficiently emboldened to say what she had been meaning to since the conversation in the library. Dropping her voice even lower to avoid any embarrassment, Brienne spoke, hoping that what she had to say would not hurt him, only help him.

"Jaime, I think it is time I moved out."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading this chapter (and thanks to effulgent_girl for the suggestion of Braxton Hicks)! I hope you enjoyed it. I would love to hear what you think in a comment or kudos :)


	23. Part XXIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne discuss moving out...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, sorry for the lateness of this! I have been restructuring the latter half of this story, so this one has taken me some time. I hope you enjoy and, as ever, please consider leaving comments and kudos!

For the rest of the evening, Jaime tried to act normally. If Arya said something inappropriate, he would laugh. If Sansa asked him about his photography, he would do his best to answer her questions. And when Catelyn invited him to come for dinner again, he politely agreed. Yet Jaime did not mention the _moving out_ issue, because he did not want to get upset, or make Brienne upset, or air all his problems in the Stark's kitchen when they had been so welcoming. He stayed silent about it as they said their goodbyes, as Brienne promised to visit the Stark's soon, as Jaime reassured Catelyn that they would book more appointments and classes, and they kept up a united front as they bid their final farewells.

It all changed once they were outside on the street with only one another for company, walking side by side with the burden of Brienne's confession heavy between them.

"Don't leave," Jaime said eventually, when he couldn't keep quiet anymore. "Please don't leave, not because of what I did."

When Brienne turned to look at him, her eyes were filled with concern and care. "I'm not leaving because of anything you did."

"Of course you are," he insisted, his voice breaking. "We kissed, almost had sex, and I told you I love you, and now you want to leave. I'm sorry if I made you feel awkward; I was upset and wasn't thinking straight..."

As Jaime continued to ramble, Brienne furrowed her brow, "so, you didn't mean what you said?"

There was doubt in her voice - worry, confusion - that Jaime felt awful for causing and bad for putting her in this position. Yet, even so, he did not want her to leave. That little world they had created back at the apartment of just him, Brienne, and turnip was the closest thing to a happy family Jaime had ever had. It was too much to lose. "What?"

"You said you love me," she replied, pulling her arms around herself almost protectively as she walked down the street, struggling to meet his eye. "Were you just upset with Cersei? Or... did you really mean what you said? Do you love me?"

Even though he had been in turmoil the past few days, Jaime knew there was one solid, inescapable truth that had survived all his pain and the upset; the fact he loved Brienne. Jaime was not yet quite sure if he was _in_ love with her - if he could imagine himself marrying her, sharing his life entirely with her, having more children with her - but he did know that he did not want to lose what they had now. And, if she left, Jaime thought the whole beautiful, delicate thing they had built together would shatter.

"Of course I do," he said valiantly as they reached the car, trying to keep the doubtful tremor out of his voice. Unfortunately, as Brienne knew him so well, she spotted it as once.

"You don't love me," she replied, trying to hide the fact that her whole body thrumming with sadness as she got into the car. "You only think you do because of your soulmark..."

Jaime shook his head as he got into the car beside her, irritated that she would be so blithe about his feelings. "It's not that," he said, starting the car with a turn of the key, "it's just... I don't know what that word means yet. _Love._ I thought I loved Cersei and I was wrong, but I've never been in love with anyone else, so I don't know how it is meant to feel. All I _do_ know is that living with you back at the apartment feels right and good, and I don't want to lose that just because I behaved like an idiot."

Next to him, Brienne sighed as she plugged herself in, before looking down at her hands. "I don't think you behaved like an idiot. I think we both got carried away in the moment and we acted on things that we perhaps thought we were... _meant_ to feel."

"Meant to feel?" asked Jaime, not turning to look at Brienne because of the need to keep his eyes on the road. "What do you mean?"

Brienne did not answer the question immediately but seemed to take some time to consider the best way to say what she felt. "Well... perhaps because of our soulmarks, and the fact I am carrying your child, you feel _obliged_ to love me. And I don't want that, Jaime. I don't want your pity."

At that confession, Jaime felt himself get annoyed. It was as if Brienne did not know him at all, did not appreciate that his feelings were more than those of a rich philanthropist looking down on his poor underling. It was real. "I don't feel that way," he insisted. "I don't feel obliged to love you, or care for you, I just _do,_ because you make me happy in a way Cersei never did as you are kind and..."

Jaime had hoped that such a description of his feelings would make her more amenable to seeing his side, but it just hardened Brienne's resolve. "I can't just be used as a comparison to Cersei. Just because she treated you poorly - didn't call you, didn't care for you, and bossed you around when she was here - that doesn't mean you _love_ me. Treating someone well is not love, but basic human decency."

"I'm not using you as a comparison, I'm just saying..."

"That you think you love me because I am kind," supplied Brienne, picking his words from him and using them as a weapon. "I'm telling you, Jaime. That's not enough to build a relationship on."

He sighed, annoyed that she was being so stubborn about this issue. "I'm not saying it is," he cried. "All I am trying to do is explain is how I feel; I don't love Cersei, you are the opposite of everything Cersei is. Therefore, because I care about you, I am wondering if I am also _in_ love with you. I don't have an answer to that yet because, as I said, I don't know what love is, but maybe you can help me find out."

The moment Jaime confessed to that hope, Brienne snapped her head around, her blue eyes bright with an emotion Jaime did not have time to read because he had to focus on driving the car. " _I_ can't help you!" she said, her voice tinged with a mix of surprise and panic, "I have no experience with this either... men don't love me, men don't want me, so how can you expect me to help you understand what romantic love is?"

Luckily, at that point, the car hit a queue of traffic, allowing Jaime to turn around and give Brienne a firm look. "What are you talking about? I just told you _I_ love you and I am a man. Yes, we probably need to work out what that means, but I think we can do it."

As he tried to smile at her, Brienne clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes, suddenly flippant and a little mocking. "What does _working it out_ mean, Jaime? Talking? Arguing? Therapy? Because that's too much to do while we are both locked in that apartment, pretending everything is alright."

"We wouldn't be _pretending,_ " insisted Jaime, his irritation becoming palpable in his tone. "We would be doing what we have been doing up until now; living together, looking after one another, caring about turnip."

Just then, the traffic began to move, so Brienne waved at him to kickstart the drive home once more. When they were well on their way, Brienne spoke again, but this time she sounded sad. "That's what we were doing before, Jaime. And, to be honest, it always felt like pretending to me. I think we need space to consider what we really need, to maybe think through out problems on our own, maybe get therapy..."

"I don't need therapy," said Jaime resolutely, insulted that Brienne would think him so weak. "I'm perfectly fine. I'm not a victim."

"I did not say you were a victim," replied Brienne, even as Jaime continued to purposefully not look at her. "It's just... you spent years in a relationship with a raging narcissist. I am doing a thesis in psychology, so of course I think it might be a good thing if you seek a therapist. It's good for everyone."

Feeling his temper growing, Jaime tried to bite down on it, not wanting to upset her. Even so, Jaime felt as if he had to defend the course his life had taken up to now, even the bits that included Cersei Marbrand. "Cersei wasn't a narcissist. It was just a relationship that went wrong, it was just..."

"A relationship that left you unsure about what love is," Brienne finished curtly, drawing a sudden halt to the conversation.

Taking a deep breath, Jaime attempted to concentrate on his driving, which he managed to do for a while. He had _not_ been Cersei's victim, he refused to see himself that way. His father had always told him that Jaime could not let himself be weak, not let himself be the victim, and that applied in business, leisure, and love. It would be a step too far to consider he needed therapy because of Cersei.

 _I don't need therapy,_ he told himself. _I don't need therapy._

Mulling on those thoughts, Jaime remained sullenly silent as they crossed the city, trying to think of a way of persuading her to stay. "If you won't stay for me," he said eventually, slowly playing with the words on his tongue before he said them, "could you at least consider staying for turnip? I _am_ her father and I think it is best if you stay with me while you are pregnant. I want to be involved and I want to look after you. It makes no sense if you are over the other side of the city in your flat."

"But so many problems will remain unanswered if I stay," insisted Brienne. "We won't deal with them... we'll continue to ignore them."

"Like what?" responded Jaime, as they pulled into the underground carpark beneath their apartment block.

"What is going to happen about turnip and Cersei?" asked Brienne, throwing questions into the air. "Does she still want to be her mother? Will you have to fight her for custody? What is my role in all this? Will I be able to be involved in turnip's life if Cersei is? Does Cersei have a claim to your apartment? Do you actually want me, or are you just confused? Should I put my whole life on hold while we think things through? What about Hyle? What...?"

"What about Hyle?" interjected Jaime as they parked up, his voice suddenly bitter. "You've only been on a few dates, surely you can't be considering going out with him again after everything that has happened between us?"

As the car came to a halt, Jaime but the handbrake on and then turned to Brienne, surprised to discover that she looked a little annoyed. "Of _course_ I am still considering going out with him. Just because we had ill-advised halfway sex, it doesn't mean I can't still think about what I really want."

When Hyle Hunt's invisible hand once again hovered over Brienne, Jaime felt his heart drop through his stomach. It was clear that Hyle was all wrong for Brienne, yet it seemed to Jaime like she just wanted to keep him dangling to demonstrate the fact that she had options. "And you think you want Hyle over me?" Jaime scoffed, thinking that idea preposterous. "Come on, there's no competition."

In the moments that followed, Brienne's nostrils flared in anger, seemingly irritated that Jaime thought so much of himself. "You can be _so_ arrogant sometimes, you know?" countered Brienne, her cheeks red, before leaping out of the car, determined to get away.

Not wanting her to have the last word, Jaime got out of the car too, locking it quickly behind him as he jogged to catch up with her. "I'm not _arrogant,_ it's just it all seems so obvious to me. I'm a hot famous photographer and he's just some nobody who works at a bar."

For some reason, at that comment, Brienne picked up the pace, hurrying to reach the lift where she started jabbing the up button quite venomously. "He's a good person. He seems kind, he seems..."

"He's not good enough for you," declared Jaime, feeling the heat and the conviction behind that statement coursing through his veins. "And it seems like you just want to cling onto him to make some sort of statement to me that you can do whatever you want."

When the doors for the lift opened, Brienne darted inside, folding her arms across her chest as a shield. "You talk as if I'm some sort of precious pearl that people value and desire."

"You are..."

"Shut up," bit back Brienne, her words heavy with unspoken fears. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm not anything special. By going out with someone who is a bartender, I am not stooping, or trying to wind you up, I'm just making a decision about my own life. _My_ life, just like going back to my flat would be."

Just as she said that, the doors to the lift closed, and the resultant solitude it afforded allowed Jaime the intimacy to reach across and take Brienne's hand. She flinched away. "Brienne, I promise you can make decisions about your own life while you live with me."

"No, I can't," she replied firmly, beginning to sound a little exasperated. "From the moment I started thinking about wanting something beyond you and the apartment, you started intervening. First it was Lance Jannister, then you were butting in on my dates with Hyle."

Jaime sighed, exasperated at his own short-sightedness. "That's because I cared about you and did not realise that I was jealous and wanted you all for myself."

"That's not a good thing," replied Brienne resolutely, her blue eyes wide. "Every time you gushed over Cersei, I was jealous, but I did not do anything to break you up, or stop you being together."

"That was different..." Jaime began.

"No, it wasn't. I may not know much about love, but I know what it _isn't_. Love isn't controlling someone and wanting them all to yourself. It's about care, respect, and valuing the other person as whole and complete entirely on their own. If you love someone, you would want them to be free and happy."

"I want _you_ to be free and happy," replied Jaime, his desperation flattening his voice into a whine, "but at the same time I don't want to be apart from you. I think it is better if we sort out our issues together and continue to look after each other and turnip. Together."

At that moment, the bell on the lift sounded indicating they had reached the penthouse. As the doors opened, Brienne pulled away from Jaime, her eyes filled with sadness. "I am sorry, Jaime," she mumbled, stepping back into the corridor. "I do care for you, but I also need some space."

Deciding _space_ meant in the here and now too, Brienne turned on her heel and started heading up the corridor towards the apartment's front door. Not wanting to be separated from her, Jaime jogged to keep up. "Brienne, I think you are making the wrong choice."

"At least I am making a choice though," she said, just as they reached the front door. Slipping her hand into her pocket, she pulled out her keys and unlocked the front door, using it as an excuse to not look at him. "Here, I feel like I cannot make my own choices. I don't want to be hemmed in by the fact we share soulmarks, or that I am carrying your baby, or that you are confused about your feelings for me."

"I am not _confused,_ " insisted Jaime as they both went inside the apartment, anger once again threatening their conversation. "I know what I feel for you; I love you. I just don't know in what form."

When Brienne looked at him, he had a feeling they were at the high point in an opera, the lead soprano having just reached her tragic aria. "If you love me, Jaime, please let me go. I need time to think things through..."

"But we can do that together!" Jaime cried, stepping forward and trying to take her hand once more.

"No, we can't," Brienne replied softly. "This is about more than just you and me, so I need time alone."

_Alone._

* * *

For the rest of the evening, they did not talk, and, in the end, Brienne went to sleep early in order to avoid him. Jaime did not understand. Yes, there were difficult decisions that needed to be made, hard topics that had to be discussed, but he felt like they should do those things together. Instead, Brienne seemed to want to run away just as everything was getting tough. And then there was turnip. By living with him, Brienne had made Jaime feel like a father, like part of a family, like he was a small piece in something much bigger than himself. If she went away, he did not know how he could continue to hold onto those feelings, the only solid foundations in his increasingly complicated life. Fearful that she would leave, Jaime spent all night tossing and turning in his bed, wondering how to make her see sense.

Yet Brienne clearly did not want to see sense as, in the morning, she told Jaime that she had made up her mind.

"I have a shift at Seaworth's today," she admitted, "so I will take a small bag of my stuff with me when I go to work, then take it straight to my flat afterwards. I won't be back."

"Brienne," Jaime said, hoping the sounding of her name would make her understand how much he valued and needed her here. "You don't have to do this."

Her eyes were big and blue as she pushed him away. "But I do. We can keep seeing each other, but I need my own space and time to work out whether this is something that is real, or just the product of a very stressful situation." As she said _this,_ Brienne waved her hand in an inclusive gesture between him and her, not wanting to wrap their relationship in awkward words.

" _This_ is real," declared Jaime, suddenly impassioned. "It is the most real thing in my life, so please don't take it away from me."

Brienne sighed, and it was one of tiredness rather than exasperation. "I am not taking anything away. You can still visit me anytime you want, you can still be involved in everything to do with turnip. It's just I need time to work out what I want, just as you do."

"I know what I want, I..."

Before Jaime could really get into the flow, Brienne raised her hand to silence him. "I'm very sorry, but I have to go to work. Perhaps you can visit me later at my flat, and we can talk more."

"Or perhaps I won't," spat Jaime, suddenly feeling angry at the fact Brienne seemed determined to rip him away from the only bit of driftwood that was keeping him floating above the waves. "It is my _choice_ after all."

At that statement, Brienne's expression changed from one of exhaustion to one of vexation. "Jaime, if you are going to be so childish..."

"I'm not being childish, it's _you_ who is being childish!" he countered, his rage building in every word. "So go to work, go back to your flat, see if I care!"

"Fine!" declared Brienne, before turning away from him.

"Fine!"

The rest of their conversation was conducted in protracted silences and slammed doors, topped off by the majestic flounce that Brienne adopted as she stormed from the apartment. Vexed that she could not see his side of the story, Jaime did nothing to contact her for the rest of the morning - not by text or phone - and threw himself into his work. At eleven o'clock, he had a photoshoot with a bland, generic looking model for a luxury editorial, so Jaime made sure he was out of the apartment, not thinking of her blue eyes, from the moment she was gone.

 _Stupid wench,_ Jaime thought as the model draped herself across the chair, her petite, delicate body strangely unappealing to him under the lights. _She can't see what's good for her, can't see that we need each other._

The model changed position, her blue eyes catching the light.

 _Ignorant wench,_ he chided her mentally, _unable to see that I do care, that I do want to best for her, that I do want her to make her own decisions, that I do want her to be free._

As they shot the last few pictures, Jaime could not help but notice the young model's innocence and vulnerability, her nervousness masked by the expensive clothes she was wearing. Coltish and easily startled, the model made him think of Brienne, who could so simply flee in the face of feelings she did not understand.

 _Is she right?_ Jaime asked himself. _Do we need time? Do we need space?_

After the photoshoot was finished, Jaime spent time checking the shots he got on his camera, wondering which were the best to send off to the magazine. The ones he liked the best were close ups of the model's face, allowing the viewer to see the almost kaleidoscopic beauty of her blue eyes.

_I need her. I want her. But what about Brienne? What does she want?_

Still unsure of whether she had made the right decision, Jaime decided to text Sansa on her newly-acquired number, wondering if he could get a little insight into what was going on in Brienne's head from her.

 _Sansa:_ I think it is a sensible decision.

 _Jaime:_ Why?

 _Sansa:_ It gives you time to exorcise Cersei from the apartment, to work out what you really want, and Brienne the space to consider if she is ready to deal with everything that comes with you.

 _Jaime:_ What is that supposed to mean?

 _Sansa:_ You _know_ what that means.

Although he supposed he did understand what Sansa was saying, Jaime did not want to believe it of himself. Jaime Lannister's life was a mess; on top of Cersei, there was his father and his expectations, as well as the mad battle of feelings tearing apart his own heart. The drama and stress he had put Brienne through the last few days had almost cost them dearly in terms of turnip, and it would only continue to get worse if he decided to take Cersei on in the law courts. Having Brienne stay in the apartment was only making her a part of all that, wrapping her up in it so tightly that it might stop her breathing.

 _Am I being uncaring by asking her to stay?_ Jaime wondered, staring at the screensaver on his phone which was a picture of her. Unfortunately, Jaime did not have an answer to that most pressing question. He thought it was probably because he did not know what love was.

Even though he was still a jumble of conflicting feelings, Jaime did not want to leave things awkward and tense with Brienne so, once he had finished his work for the day, he went to the shops. Figuring that she did not have any food in her flat and would not have time to pick any up after work, Jaime did a necessities shop for her, and even bought Brienne a box of chocolates.

Maybe it was a _sorry_. Maybe it was a _please stay with me_.

Having given her time to finish her shift at Seaworth's, Jaime drove over to her flat, armed with the shopping and the resolution not to make her angry with him. He did not like feeling as if he had upset her, even if he wondered whether she was in the wrong.

When she answered the door, Brienne was wearing a comfy old tracksuit and a surprised expression. "Jaime, what are you doing here?"

Holding the bag of shopping up in an attempt at an explanation, Jaime said gently, "I brought you some necessities... I didn't think you would have any and I didn't want you to be hungry."

A small blush came to her cheeks. "Thank you."

Once Jaime handed her the bag, an awkward silence descended over them. Given the events of the last few days, Jaime wondered if they had totally lost the ability to have a normal conversation. "I suppose I will see you around. I don't want to disturb you."

Jaime went to move away, but Brienne caught him by the wrist, holding him fast. "Or you could come in and... I don't know... we could watch a movie. You could tell me about your day."

Looking up at her, Jaime could not help but smile. Brienne truly was the only person in the world who ever wanted to hear about his day. "That sounds nice."

"Come on in then," she said invitingly, dropping her hand to entwine her fingers with his. "Come on in and I'll make you a cup of tea."

So Jaime did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! The moving out issue is clearly not resolved here, but I hope you like where I go with it! If you have anything you would be especially interested in seeing during this story, please leave it in a comment.


	24. Part XXIV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime tries to come to terms with his new life...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Thanks for coming back, I hope you enjoy this chapter.
> 
> Just FYI, there is a mild discussion of canon typical rape and sexual assault in this chapter. You have been warned!

It was not what Jaime wanted, but still, somehow, it worked. Although he was not completely happy with Brienne living the other side of the city, he knew she was right about one thing; the need for her to make her own decisions. After all, if they kept going on as they had been, with him always on her shoulder, Jaime feared he would push her away forever and he did not want that. As living away from him was entirely Brienne's decision, he tried to be supportive, especially when he noticed there was something lighter, less weighed down about her in her own space.

 _Maybe that's my fault,_ Jaime thought sadly. _Maybe I make her miserable, and I did not notice._

Yet, he did not believe Brienne thought that, as over the next few weeks he spent most of his evenings at her flat, just hanging out. It was strange because she just seemed to enjoy his company, which was a little unnerving, but nice at the same time.

 _If I truly made her miserable, she would just kick me out,_ Jaime reasoned. _So, maybe she likes me._

That thought just made him worry.

_Soulmarks are about loving someone though, aren't they? They say nothing about liking. I never liked Cersei, even though I thought I loved her. So maybe Brienne and I are just platonic soulmates, because I like her, and she likes me._

_Why is this all so confusing?_

Given how messed up he felt about the situation, Jaime was immensely relieved that Brienne did not make him talk about what had passed between them, nor about his growing case against Cersei, nor the fact Jaime had to deal with a small crowd of paparazzi every time he left his house, begging him to tell them if he had forgiven his errant girlfriend. Instead, they spoke of mundane things; Brienne's research, Sansa's problems with a colleague at work, the weird new singing show on the TV which had celebrities dress up in costumes and the audience had to guess who they were. Most of the time it was just the two of them and turnip, but Sansa popped round a lot, sometimes even bringing Arya, and once Tyrion even visited while Jaime was there. He spent the time dropping really unsubtle hints about the fact he thought they should be banging, but Jaime and Brienne found a way to gloss over the topic without causing any upset.

Indeed, Jaime found it strange how many people wanted to talk to him while he was in Brienne's world. Jaime even found himself striking up a conversation with Brienne's neighbour Dick Crabb about photography at one point, when the man had eventually summoned up the courage to ask about his work after noticing Jaime going in and out so often.

"Do you just like portrait work?" asked Dick, "or would you like to branch out into other types of photography?"

To his surprise, Jaime found himself admitting the truth. "I actually wanted to be a wildlife photographer; as a kid, there was nothing more I loved than running around the forests surrounding Casterly Rock, trying to get close to the wild horses. I even gave a few of them names, but it was sad when they died, so I stopped after a while. Still, it instilled a love of nature in me and that was why I went to Highgarden College; they had a great programme on wildlife photography, with work placements in the Dothraki Sea to take pictures of the horses there. However... my father thought that if I was insisting on being a photographer, I would at least have to go into fashion photography. I could make more connections there that would be beneficial to _Lannister Industries,_ and more money of course. So, that's what I did."

 _That's what I did, because my father told me,_ Jaime thought, somewhat sadly. _Where Brienne can make her own decisions, I cannot._

Even though this topic touched a sore spot, every time Jaime bumped into Dick from that point onwards, they would say hello and have a quick conversation. That turned out to be quite a lot, because most evenings Jaime went to visit Brienne after she finished her shift at Seaworth’s, and they would cook together and watch TV. They had just got into rather a good boxset about a murder mystery in a small town; a man had gone missing, and most of the town blamed his wife, who Jaime thought was innocent. Brienne disagreed.

"Well, in the flashbacks we've seen, it's clear she abused him in the past."

Jaime scoffed, thinking Brienne was not watching the programme properly. "How the hell has she abused him?"

Brienne narrowed her eyes at Jaime, looking at him as if he were some sort of crazy person. "She hit him, told him he was stupid and useless and wouldn't amount to anything all the time."

"Yeah, but that's not _abuse_ ," replied Jaime, wrinkling his nose. "I mean, Cersei used to hit me all the time, but it was just part of the passion. And anyway, I had a talent for turning her blows into kisses."

If he had expected Brienne to nod and agree with him, he was disappointed, as she instead just stared at him with a weird mix of horror and concern. "Cersei used to hit you?"

"Yeah, all the time," he repeated more casually, locking his arms behind his head to convey it was not a big deal, "but that's just the way it was between us."

"What?" asked Brienne, raising an eyebrow at him in an attempt to mask the disgust that crossed her face, "you mean she was _abusive_ towards you? That's just how it was between you?"

"No, that's not..."

"Did you used to hit her?" inquired Brienne, her tone turning sharp, a dawning fear on her face.

"No, of course not!" he cried, disappointed that she would think that of him, "I wouldn't hit a woman, and I would not want to hurt Cersei like that."

"But it was okay for her to hurt _you_ like that?"

Jaime rolled her eyes, irritated that Brienne was not seeing this in the way that he did. "Look, you're not getting this."

"Alright then, explain it to me," said Brienne gently, turning away from the TV so she could sit, cross-legged, in front of him, scrutinising him with those deep eyes. "Why was it okay for Cersei to hit you?"

Jaime shrugged, not quite meeting Brienne's eye. "I used to upset her all the time, disappoint her. I deserved it. I made her angry."

At that statement, Brienne's expression became even more incredulous. "You make me angry sometimes, but I don't hit you."

"Yes," replied Jaime, conceding the point, "but it is different between you and me."

"Why?"

The next thing was difficult to say, because it sometimes felt like it was not true, but Jaime eventually managed to force the words out of his mouth. "Because we're not together. It would be different if we were."

Brienne's eyebrows almost disappeared into her hairline at that statement. "What? You think if we got together that I would start hitting you?"

"No, of course not," replied Jaime, leaning forward to take her hand. She did not flinch away. Comforted, Jaime ran his thumb across her knuckles, which seemed to make her soften her expression. "You are not like that."

"You mean I would not abuse you?" she asked gently, putting her free hand on top of his and squeezing his fingers.

The level of concern for him was too much, and it made Jaime pull away, shuffling down to the other end of the sofa from her. Once there, he opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to find a way to persuade her to see him as anything else other than a poor victim abused by his demonic girlfriend. He did not want Brienne to think he was weak. "Just watch the show," he said eventually, unable to find the words, turning back to the TV. "I still don't think it's the wife."

"But Jaime..."

"Wench, just watch the damn show."

* * *

The only nights Jaime did not spend with Brienne were the evenings she went to see Hyle. That irritated Jaime even more than the fact she insisted on living without him, but he put up with it because he knew Brienne was right about needing to make her own decisions.

 _Even if they are terrible decisions,_ he thought darkly.

On most of those evenings, Jaime went to hang out with Tyrion, Bronn, and Addam. Bronn and Addam were Tyrion's friends rather than his, but even so it was quite a nice change to have people to go to the pub and play darts with. It sometimes succeeded in making Jaime forget about whatever Hyle and Brienne were doing.

_Stupid Hyle._

However, on that particular day, Tyrion had a commitment at work, Bronn had tickets for some football game in Bronzegate, and Addam had to go and visit his folks, so Jaime found himself alone in his apartment for the first time since the halfway sex. In some ways, it was nice to have some time alone to think. In others, it made Jaime feel vulnerable.

Especially when the doorbell rang.

"Coming!" called Jaime, abandoning his half eaten noodles on the coffee table to answer the door. When there was another impatient ring, Jaime picked up his pace. "I said I was coming, calm down, I..."

"Jaime," said his father levelly as Jaime opened the door, not even offering the most basic of pleasantries before he came marching into the apartment, crossing to the living area, his expression stern and unyielding.

"Father, what are you doing here?" asked Jaime, shocked, fumbling as he shut the door. His father rarely made the journey from Casterly Rock to visit his son, especially while wearing his impeccably tailored business suit and looking as if a storm was on the horizon, so Jaime suspected it was something deadly, _deadly_ serious. "Is Aunt Genna dead?"

"No," replied his father curtly, neither amused or disgusted by Jaime's question. "I need you to look at _this."_ Without another word, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a neatly folded copy of _The Daily Whisperer._ Jaime spotted the headline at once.

_Love's Young Dream Over: Jaime and Cersei split?_

"Turn to page three," ordered Father, which Jaime obeyed at once. The article his father clearly wanted him to look at dominated the whole page, stark against the white paper. There article was decorated by photographs from the shoot Jaime had done of Cersei which had broken the internet, as well as a more private shot of him and his ex on a city break to Pentos.

_Love's Young Dream Over: Jaime and Cersei split? Reported by Varys._

_Is the greatest romance of our age over? After Cersei Marbrand, 32, celebrated movie star, actress, singer, dancer, artiste, philanthropist, and model was caught in flagrante with her_ Sand Snakes _co-star Robert Baratheon, 48, questions were asked over her relationship with billionaire bad boy Jaime Lannister, 32. The son of property and mining tycoon, Tywin Lannister, 64, of Casterly Rock, Jaime has been clearly smitten with his girlfriend Cersei since they met three years ago at a Charity Fundraiser for Under Privileged Kids, and the two planned to be married._

"We didn't meet at a fundraiser," said Jaime suspiciously, "you set us up."

"Read on," ordered Tywin, clearly having little time for Jaime's minor quibbles about his backstory.

_However, after Cersei's string of scandalous affairs were exposed by this magazine, it seemed clear that Jaime would break off the relationship. Yet, the enigmatic photographer seems to have put forgiveness over vengeance and has taken Westeros' favourite sex kitten back. A close friend of Mr Lannister said, "Jaime has always loved Cersei very dearly. Some would call it an addiction; it's like a drug, he can't get enough. Therefore, Jaime is really keen for their wedding [planned for the Summer Islands next year] to go ahead. To him, the fact they are starting a family together is more important than any momentary indiscretions on Cersei's part, and he thinks they can work this out."_

"Who is this friend?" squawked Jaime, totally blindsided. "I don't have any friends I would have said this to!"

"Your cousin Daven," replied Tywin dryly. "Read on."

_Similar conclusions were drawn by Cersei's mother, Joanna Marbrand, 59, who, in an exclusive statement to this magazine, said: "Jaime and Cersei have been very much in love from the moment they met, and Cersei is determined to make it work. With the support of her loving boyfriend, she has checked into the Water Gardens Rehab Facility in Dorne to come to terms with her issues, and the two of them are greatly looking forward to a new chapter in their lives when Cersei returns to King's Landing, complete with their new baby."_

_Can we expect the wedding of the century on the Summer Isles next year?_ The Daily Whisperer _sure hopes so, and you will find exclusive pictures here first!_

In disbelief, Jaime almost dropped the paper to the floor. "I can't believe this! You need to do something, Father! Cersei and I are _not_ getting back together; I can't be with her after what she did. You need to sue Varys and get him to retract all this. I might have to fight Cersei for custody of our daughter, and speculation like this will only damage my case."

"You will not be fighting Cersei for custody," said Father firmly, his eyes emotionless.

"I might have to," exclaimed Jaime. "She's threatened to take turnip away if I don't stay with her..."

Father looked faintly disgusted. "Who is _turnip?"_

Jaime had to force himself not to wilt. "Oh... I... uh, just mean my daughter. It's a nickname."

"The heir to the Lannister fortune shall never be called _turnip,_ " declared Tywin Lannister tersely, crossing his hands behind his back in a highly patrician manner. "In fact, you are going to call her Jeyne, after my mother."

Even though Jaime felt _Jeyne_ was not his daughter's name - he wanted to discuss it with Brienne after all - he did not say so and tried to change the topic back to the issue at hand to avoid his father's ire. "Well, I may have to fight Cersei for custody of the future Lannister heir because she has said that she will take me to court for her if we break up, despite the fact she doesn't give a shit about the baby and is only doing this to spite me."

Tywin blinked slowly at Jaime's reaction, perhaps weighing up his options. "You will not be taking Cersei to court. I do not need Lannister secrets out on the public record, as they would be if you and Cersei had a public spat over my heir."

"Then what do you advise?" Jaime asked, trying to keep the tremulous whine away from his words. "Because Cersei will be vicious unless I come up with a way to fight her and defend my daughter."

As Jaime got palpably more emotional, his father's eyes narrowed. Tywin Lannister was a man with an innate distrust of emotion - possibly because his own father had been an overflowing well of passion, love, and trust that was abused again and again and again - so when it appeared on his own son's face he acted with disapproval. "I see that there is one simple way out of this," he said, his voice carrying barely an inflection.

"What?"

"You do exactly as the scoop in _The Daily Whisperer_ says," replied his father, his lips curling in such a way that if they were on the face of any other man, Jaime would have thought he was smiling. "Play the kind, understanding boyfriend and take her back. All the woke idiots in the city will love you for it."

"I thought the lion did not concern himself with the opinions of the sheep?" interjected Jaime, remembering a well-worn phrase his father had beat him with when he was a child to stop him crying over things other people did to him.

Ignoring that poor attempt at riling him, Tywin continued on regardless. "You can have your glamorous wedding next year as planned, and once Cersei goes back to shooting whatever her latest film is, you can have custody of your daughter once that unsightly surrogate of yours finally gives birth."

At that rude mention of Brienne, Jaime felt his hackles raise even higher. "Do not talk about Brienne that way! She is carrying your grandchild!"

Once again, Jaime's father refused to actually listen to what he was saying and carried on regardless. "So, read this copy of _The Daily Whisperer_ and get used to your lines. No doubt Cersei will be in touch with you soon for you to stage manage all this. Joanna is envisioning a glossy dual interview done by Varys in which Cersei chirps on about her mental health issues as you play the supporting boyfriend. Then, everything can be brushed under the carpet and you get what you want; your daughter. Do you understand me?"

In truth, Jaime did not think he did. For the whole of his life, his father had beaten him with a stick labelled _The Lannister Name is All That Matters,_ yet now Cersei was dragging it through the mud, Tywin Lannister did not seem to care less.

"No," replied Jaime bemusedly, suddenly wishing he had his father's immense ability to play mind games on every dimension at once. "I don't understand. Cersei has publicly embarrassed herself, embarrassed _me,_ and therefore the entire family. I would have thought you would back me in not marrying her and in trying to get custody of my daughter because Cersei is cruel, Cersei is an embarrassment, Cersei is..."

_Abusive._

Even while picturing Brienne's encouraging blue eyes, Jaime could not bring himself to say the word, so his argument fell to nothing and it gave his father a moment more to implement his strategy. Taking advantage of Jaime's miscalculation, his father paused for a few seconds before making his move. "No. I do not."

"Why not?" asked Jaime, still entirely lost at the fact his father seemed to have changed his whole philosophical outlook since the last time they saw each other.

Instead of answering the question, Father crossed the room and went to look out of the huge glass window that surrounded the entirety of Jaime's penthouse apartment. From up here, the whole of King's Landing lay dark and silent beneath the viewer and, under Tywin Lannister's gaze, it seemed to tremble with fear. As he finally supplied a reply, Father kept his eyes on the city, as if marvelling at his dominion.

"Because she _knows."_

Jaime blinked, lost. "Who knows?"

"Joanna Marbrand," Father replied, almost grinding his teeth as he said her name.

"Cersei's mother?" asked Jaime stupidly, "what does she know?"

Father looked around to face his son and heir. "Joanna knows... about Tysha." Jaime swallowed, a hateful knot tying itself in his belly. For years Jaime had tried to beat his guilt down, to pretend he had not done the terrible thing he did, yet here he was, bring confronted with that name once more.

"How?" he rasped, unable to quite believe his father was saying.

"I think we have a leak somewhere at _Lannister Industries_ ," growled Father, his fury palpable, "or maybe it was those animals Gregor Clegane and Amory Lorch. I don't know, but you would think they would keep quiet about their crime."

"Crime?" asked Jaime, searching his father's unreadable face for answers as he became more and more confused. "What crime? And how do they even know about Tysha?"

Father averted his eyes and looked out at the city once more. "They were in charge of taking Tysha to wherever whores go."

"But she wasn't a whore," scoffed Jaime, "that was just what you told me to tell Tyrion after he married her, to persuade him to sign the annulment. In truth, you paid her off, because she was a nobody from nowhere not fit to marry your son."

When Father just continued to remain silent, staring out at his kingdom, not giving Jaime anything, the pieces slowly started to fall into place. Gregor Clegane and Amory Lorch were two brutal, violent thugs his father had always used for security, but Jaime suddenly wondered if Tysha had not been paid off at all, but taken down a darkened alley by Clegane, Lorch, and whichever other monsters Tywin Lannister had at his command.

Jaime's voice was hoarse when he finally hung words on his dread. "What did you have them do to her? Did they... did you...?"

"You were always overly imaginative, Jaime," growled Father, his eyes still out on the city, knowing what Jaime meant without the need for it to be explicitly voiced, "it is your greatest flaw."

"I'm _not_ overly imaginative," declared Jaime, his voice growing stronger with every word, even as he realised that he was facing a monster. "It's just that Joanna knows something so terrible about you that you are willing to have me marry Cersei, someone who has dragged the Lannister name through the mud. What else could it be other than a genuine, bona fide crime?"

When his father answered with nothing but silence, Jaime knew his fears were the truth.

"I won't do it," declared Jaime, empowered by the sense of hurt at the millionth injustice his father had carried out in service of the name _Lannister._ "I won't marry a woman who is... _abusive_ so you can keep your sheets clean."

His father turned away from the city and back towards his son, his expression biting. "Then your brother will know you had a hand in lying to him, breaking his heart, and destroying his first love. Do you really want him to know that about you? That you are not the good, kind brother you pretend to be?"

"I... I... I..." replied Jaime, tripping over his words in a valiant attempt to find a rebuke. Jaime did not think he was pretending in his love for Tyrion, but perhaps he had been wrong. Perhaps he was hateful, even if he had only been twenty-one when he told that lie. "Father, I..."

Disgusted with his son's babbling, Tywin Lannister crossed the room in a series of firm strides and caught his son's face in a firm grip, forcing Jaime to look at him. "Your mother is dead, and before long I'll be dead, and you, and your brother, and even my sister Genna. All of us dead. All of us rotting in the ground. It's the family name that lives on, it's all that lives on, not your personal passions, your weak feelings, nor your momentary failings. The longer this story stays in the limelight, with you the cuckolded fool, we are no longer a house to be feared. Marry the Marbrand girl and put this all to rest. Your shame. Tysha's ghost. Your weakness. Do you understand? This is the only way."

Jaime wanted to say that it was not the only way. When he was with Brienne, there was light, goodness, and the possibility of something else. Surely, there was another way out than lies, deceit, and caving to Cersei's demands? "Father, I..."

Yet Tywin Lannister would not let him speak. "You are blessed with abilities that few men possess, Jaime. You are the heir to the most powerful family in the country. And you are still blessed with youth. And what have you done with these blessings, huh?"

Jaime blinked nervously, unable to break the querulous look his father was giving him. "I've tried to build a life. I've tried..."

Disapproving on Jaime's attempt to respond, his father supplied him with the correct answer. "You've wasted your time taking terrible photographs of unimportant people whose names will be forgotten quicker than they are."

Jaime tried to move away, thinking he needed to make a retreat before mounting a defence, but Father put his other hand on Jaime's shoulder, holding him fast. "The future of our family rests on decisions you make in the next few months. You could remain silent, marry the whore, and save the family name, or bring us all down with your own wounded pride. I need you to become the man you were always meant to be. Not next year. Not tomorrow. _Now_."

 _The man I was always meant to be,_ thought Jaime, trying to picture him in his head. _The man I can never be, but the man I must be if I am ever to be loved by my own father._ _And respected by my brother._

_Yet it is all a lie, because I can never be good enough._

_Never._

* * *

Eventually, Jaime had acquiesced to most of his father's wishes, because he could not think of an alternative. He had drawn the line at agreeing to the marriage now, said he would think about the photo shoot, but would get back in touch with Cersei to _talk._ Jaime did not want to ever speak to her again, but the alternative was Tyrion knowing that he was not the big brother he believed he was, and the thought of that coming to pass broke Jaime's heart.

 _I can't lose the only family member who has ever cared,_ he thought, _even though I do not deserve his affection. I'm a terrible brother and have been pretending to be good for so many years..._

Lost and alone, Jaime did not know what to do. He had thought he was finally getting on top of his life, finding his place by Brienne's side, ending things with Cersei, working out how to become a father. Yet this? Discovering what darkness sat at the heart of his own family and the role he himself had played in it? It was too much.

He had to go to her.

Jaime was convinced that the walls of Brienne's apartment were made of polystyrene as, when he arrived, he could hear a man and woman conversing on the other side of the door. Laughing. Flirting. Joking. Jaime was too heartsore to be jealous when he rang the bell. Brienne answered a few moments later, her cheeks flushed with something that looked a little like pleasure. Yet, the second she laid eyes on him; her face fell. "Jaime! Whatever is the matter?"

There was only one thing he wanted to talk about.

"Define _abuse."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Of course, some of the dialogue was taken from Tywin's introduction in 1x07 "You Win or You Die" from "Game of Thrones". I hope you enjoyed the adaptation, and the reveal of Tywin's secret.


	25. Part XXV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne goes on a date with Hyle...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, thanks so much for coming back for this chapter! I hope you enjoy!
> 
> There is a tiny bit of NSFW content in this one, as well as discussion of abusive relationships, just to warn you!

The dinner had been very nice - traditional Braavosi street food down on the Waterfront - as well as the conversation, because Hyle was an easy person to talk to. Although Brienne did not have as many things in common with him as she did with Jaime, there were positives to be found in Hyle's easy manner and courtesy. He was not very confrontational and had no strong feelings on anything in particular, so they could wheel through topics quickly and easily without getting stuck on anything. It was so different to her relationship with Jaime, which was based on a love of debate and argument.

"Wench, don't be ridiculous! You cannot learn Dothraki in a month!"

"Jaime, please! Of _course_ dogs can look up!"

"Wench, don't you smirk at me! I know you enjoy bickering just as much as I do."

With Hyle there was none of that. It was all polite conversation about what TV shows she was watching and how bad the weather had been for the last few weeks. Over their Braavosi kebabs, they could talk about what food they liked, and Brienne told Hyle about how Jaime's spicy stew was the best thing she had ever tasted.

"I can cook too, you know," Hyle replied, a curious look on his face.

"Can you?" smiled Brienne, putting thoughts of Jaime to one side. "Well, you will have to show me sometime."

After they had eaten, Hyle and Brienne went for a walk along the Waterfront, enjoying the lights of the city reflected on Blackwater Bay. A few nights previously, she and Jaime had watched a documentary on the War of the Five Kings, which had focussed heavily on the use of wildfire during the Battle of Blackwater. As green lights from a club on the shore rippled across the waves, Brienne took a photo, meaning to send it to Jaime with a caption about the past coming to life before her very eyes. However, she did not have time to do it immediately as Hyle took her hand, distracting her.

"Come on. Why don't we go back to your place? Perhaps I can come in for a coffee?"

"Sure," she replied, even as her stomach roiled nervously.

When they arrived back at her flat, Brienne fumbled with the keys, Hyle's hand resting on the small of her back. She sincerely hoped that Hyle meant coffee and not _coffee_ because, while she could easily get away with having a decaf this late at night, she did not feel she was ready to sleep with him. Although Hyle was a nice guy, she was self-conscious of her body, especially now she was pregnant with another man's child and did not want to reveal herself in that way. The only person she thought would appreciate her body as it currently was as a sensual object of desire was Jaime and... she could not go there again. Not when he did not really know what he wanted.

 _Even if Cersei hit him,_ thought Brienne as she entered her flat, _kindness does not make up for ugliness. I can never compare._

Once Hyle had shuffled into the small living room behind her, Brienne shut the door and then turned the light on. Slipping her keys onto the hook by the door, Brienne smiled at Hyle. "Do you fancy a drink? I have a nice selection of tea if..."

He never let her finish her sentence, however, as the next second Hyle had pulled her close and was kissing her hard, one hand in her hair as he pushed her back into the room. Although she was averse to having sex with him, Brienne wanted to kiss someone, wanted to feel close and cared for, so when he invaded her mouth with his tongue, she fought back, trying to keep thoughts of Jaime doing the same thing at bay.

 _Jaime's shoulders are more compact,_ she mused, remembering the way he had felt under her hands. _His body is leaner, and he is taller, and his kisses burn._

Lost to the memory of Jaime's kiss, Brienne only remembered she was with Hyle when the light suddenly clicked off. Pulling away, she realised that with the hand not carding through her hair, Hyle had gone to switch the light off. Surprised, she looked at him quizzically.

"It creates a more romantic atmosphere, I think," he purred, his face barely visible in the darkness. "Just the two of us, alone..."

 _A more romantic atmosphere?_ she thought, her heartbeat growing faster the longer she looked at him. Even in the shadows, she could see his eyes were glinting, and there was something hungry behind them. _I am not ready for that yet._

"I am sorry Hyle," said Brienne, reaching across and turning the light back on. "I am not quite ready for _that_ yet... but we could always sit on the sofa and kiss a little. I would be comfortable with that."

Hyle seemed disappointed, but eventually he nodded. "Okay, but can we bump it up from kissing to making out? I've wanted you all night." Blushing, Brienne found herself agreeing and, before too long, once the light was off, she was sitting on the sofa next to Hyle, his tongue in her mouth and her mind once again filled with thoughts of Jaime. As they kissed, Hyle's fingers bunched in her hair, pulling tightly. Jaime would touch her more gently, reverently, as if she was something precious to be treasured. Of course he would not mean it. In the time since their frantic halway sex, Brienne had had time to think about things. Although Jaime had said he loved her, it was clear he had no idea what love was. He had admitted that Cersei hit him, yet always defended her actions. He claimed she was everything Cersei was not yet had spent months saying the sun rose and set with her. It was all so confusing and Brienne did not know what to do about it.

 _Jaime's feelings will pass,_ Brienne decided as she kissed Hyle back, searching for emotion, _when he realises that all he is experiencing is falling out of love with Cersei... not falling in love with me._

As Brienne's thoughts moved to imagining Jaime's hands on her breasts, Hyle broke the kiss and began sucking at her neck, which made Brienne moan. She tried to focus on the man in front of her, who was trying to give her pleasure, but all she could think about was a pair of green eyes.

 _Damn him,_ thought Brienne bitterly. _Why can he not let me make my own choices?_

"Hyle?"

"Mmm?"

"Are you sure you don't want a cup of tea or something?"

Hyle pulled away, his expression confused. "But we're in the middle of..." Brienne never heard what they were in the middle of as, just then, the doorbell rang. Hyle let out a disappointed sigh, "are you expecting someone?"

"No," said Brienne, taking the opportunity to remove herself from Hyle's grasp and cross the room towards the door. Straightening herself up, Brienne paused momentarily before unlocking the door. She did not want anyone to know she had been in here kissing Hyle, for his good more than her own. It did not do well for men to feel lumbered with Brienne the Beauty.

Brienne did not know who she had been expecting - perhaps Sansa, or a parcel delivery - but it was not Jaime Lannister, looking as if he had been told he had to carry all the world on his shoulders and could not keep up the load. "Jaime!" she exclaimed, finding it very difficult to keep her alarm out of her voice. "Whatever is the matter?"

"Define _abuse."_

Momentarily taken aback, Brienne struggled to put together a coherent answer to that, so was then caught off guard when Jaime pushed past her into her small flat. "Jaime, you can't just..."

"Who turned off the lights?" he asked, reaching across to illuminate the small living room by flicking the switch once more. It not only succeeded in revealing just how tiny Brienne's flat was, but also that Hyle was still sitting on her sofa, looking less than impressed.

"Oh, it's you," said Hyle, something aggressive in his tone as he got to his feet. "What are you doing here? Have you come to tell me I'm in danger of getting another parking ticket?"

At Hyle's attempt to rile him, Jaime let out a dismissive scoffing sound. It was quite clear he had very little time for Hyle and he always did such a bad job of hiding his distaste. "No, I've just come to see Brienne, that's all."

"Oh?" replied Hyle, taking on a sarcastic tone, "because I thought you would be busy down in Dorne supporting your girlfriend while she's in rehab. It's all over the papers."

Brienne had to stifle a shocked little gasp by biting her lip, conscious that an overreaction could turn this already volatile situation into a disaster. As she expected, Jaime gave Hyle such a filthy look that Brienne was surprised the latter did not turned to stone.

"You shouldn't believe everything you read in the papers," growled Jaime, his hands balling into fists.

"And you should know when you are interrupting," replied Hyle, his tone equally as biting. "The first two times I could overlook - I'm a generous guy - but clearly Brienne and I are in the middle of something right now, so if you wouldn't mind..."

Jaime rolled his eyes. "Gods, don't worry. I'm going. But don't forget; it's entirely up to Brienne who she wants to spend time with."

"Good," replied Hyle with a hint of triumph in his eyes. "Brienne will call you later."

"Fine," hissed Jaime, before turning to Brienne, his expression softening as he did so. "Wench, I am sorry for interrupting it's just... I wondered if we could talk, but perhaps tomorrow."

Although Jaime had conceded, Hyle looked to continue their spat over Brienne's time and attention like two lions fighting over an antelope carcass, so she decided to intervene. "Actually, Jaime, it's alright. Hyle was just leaving."

At that statement, Hyle's expression went from smug triumph to bewilderment. "Brienne!" he squawked, "we're in the middle of something!"

"I know," she said, not looking him as she felt herself turn a blotchy red. "It's just I want to talk to Jaime about a couple of baby related things while he's here... I'll call you, okay? We can sort something out."

To her immense relief, Jaime did not do his usual cocky bastard routine and instead managed to keep his triumph to himself. However, Hyle was not able to do the same with his annoyed anger, which burst out of him in an unimpressed huff. "Whatever, Brienne, I just thought we were having a nice night, that's all."

"We _were_ ," said Brienne, stepping forward, "it's just there are things that need to be sorted out..."

_In my head. In my heart._

"Whatever, I'll see you around," Hyle said dismissively, marching to the door at the rate of knots.

"Wait, Hyle, I..." However, there was seemingly nothing she could stay that would stop him, as Hyle gave one more irritated look at Jaime before streaming out of the flat, making the door slam behind him. The resultant silence was very loud.

Sighing, Brienne lifted one hand and put it on her forehead, rubbing at her temple in order to alleviate some of the oncoming stress she was sure was just about to wash over her. Things got no better when Jaime put his hand on her shoulder, his touch strong but gentle, meaning he was close enough that she could feel the heat coming off him.

 _Damn him,_ she thought. _Damn him to all seven hells._

"Don't worry wench," he said, his voice soft and warm, "that was my fault. If you want to sort it out, I am sure you can call him tomorrow and make everything alright." Not wanting to talk about Hyle while Jaime was still touching her, Brienne turned around to face him, leaving his arm to drop to his side. At the broken contact, a flicker of concern passed his features, but Brienne tried to parry this attempt at emotional closeness while she was feeling so vulnerable with a quick question.

"Why are you here?"

At the question, once again the weight of the world appeared on his shoulders. "Oh, it's nothing big..."

"Nothing big?" she asked a little irritated. "You mean I might have screwed up everything with Hyle for nothing big?"

Jaime averted his eyes and looked down at the floor. "Don't worry... I didn't mean to disturb you. I'll go..."

At Jaime's wounded-puppy-with-a-limp-who-had-been-abandoned-and-repeatedly-kicked expression, Brienne let out a sigh, her annoyance leaving her as she did so. "No, lets talk. What do you want to ask me?" He looked back up at her; his eyes big and green and containing the world.

"I just... um..."

"Yes?"

"I just wanted you to define abuse, that's all," Jaime shrugged, as if it was something simple that he was asking her to do. "It's just the other day when we were watching TV you said Cersei hitting me constituted abuse and... I just wanted to check if that is the limit of abuse. Hitting and stuff."

Seeing the sudden vulnerability in his expression, Brienne decided to tread carefully, not wanting to wake the monster who lurked in the reeds underneath their feet. "What do you mean? Are you asking me if there are other ways that someone could be abused other than the physical?"

Jaime shrugged again, trying to appear nonchalant. She knew him so well that she knew without asking that he was feeling anything but _nonchalant_. "Yeah, I suppose."

As they were still both awkwardly standing in the middle of the lounge, Brienne closed her hand around Jaime's wrist and walked him over to the sofa. He sat down without complaint and just looked at her with those big green eyes. She saw something incredibly sad there.

"In romantic relationships, there are lots of types of abuse. I mean, I'm no trained therapist but there's physical abuse, verbal abuse, financial abuse, sexual abuse... I am not sure if I can just list them all out like this but, aside from the hitting, if Cersei was ever threatening, or called you worthless or useless, or always seemed to be doing you down... that's verbal or emotional abuse. And then there's sexual abuse. If she ever made you have sex when you didn't want..."

"But I'm a man," interrupted Jaime suddenly. "I'm always up for it."

"Who told you that?" asked Brienne, running her thumb over the back of his hand, "because if the answer is anything other than _you,_ Jaime, then no, you are not always up for it. Just because that is what society... or Cersei... tells you, it doesn't make it right." His gaze dropped to her hand, following the small circles she was drawing with her thumb.

"I think..." he began, but then faltered.

"What?"

He looked back up at her, and he wore an expression that Brienne herself would use while watching the sun rise. "I think I was in an abusive relationship with Cersei... and I've dragged you and turnip into all this against your will and it's all my fault."

And then, to Brienne's complete surprise, Jaime broke down. One minute he was looking at her as if he had just had a revelation, the next he had crumpled in on himself, tears rolling down his cheeks.

"Oh gods, don't cry!" she implored him, pulling him close and stroking his hair. "This is not your fault. This is _Cersei's_ fault."

"I could have stopped it, I could have broken up with her, I could have not pushed for a baby..."

"You could have, you could have, you could have," said Brienne, dismissing every one of his objections as he wrapped his arms around her. Even though Jaime was sobbing, Brienne could not deny how natural it felt to have him so close, near enough to kiss. "But you didn't, because you didn't realise what situation you were in. You do now, though, don't you? It's your future to make, and even if you have told the tabloids that you were supporting Cersei through her rehab, you can change your mind..."

Jaime pulled away from her slightly, so he could look her full in the face. "I didn't tell the tabloids anything. That was something cooked up between my father and Joanna Marbrand because they want Cersei and I to stay together."

"What?" asked Brienne, looking at him confusedly. That did not make sense to her. "Why would your father want you to stay with Cersei after she cheated on you, let alone everything else?"

It was then his turn to sigh, deep, heavy, and speaking of an immovable sadness. "Joanna has got... _something_ on my father."

"What?"

Jaime went very red, before pulling her close and burying his face in her shoulder once more. "Something big. Something that can rip apart the whole family, and maybe bring my father down." Brienne gulped. There were rumours about Tywin Lannister, oh yes, and a type of dark glamour thick as a varnish, but Brienne had never wanted to pick at it too far, not when Jaime was so very lovely and so very fragile. "If I don't marry her, things will be bad for everyone and I can't... I don't know if I could put my happiness ahead of everyone else's, ahead of my own brother's."

Feeling confused at that revelation, Brienne just squeezed him tightly in a way she hoped was comforting. "Jaime, I'm probably not the best person to talk to about this. You probably need to see a professional, a therapist, someone who can help you work out your feelings and help you decide what you need to do."

"I'm not crazy," mumbled Jaime into her shoulder, squeezing back, "maybe I sometimes act like I am, but there's so much going on and I just don't know how to cope with it."

Her heart breaking for him, Brienne tilted her head so she could nuzzle his ear. He made a happy little snuffling sound at that. "I don't think you are crazy, and needing to speak to someone doesn't make you crazy," she declared, "but I do think you need to speak to someone who can help you talk this through, someone who is not me."

"Why not you?" asked Jaime. "I trust you."

At his confession, Brienne felt as if her heart was about to burst into flames, right above where their baby sat. "And I trust you, Jaime, and that's why it can't be me. I can't help you with your problems, because I don't see you clearly."

"What do you mean?" he inquired; his lips close to her ear.

"I see only the best in you, you must know that by now," she replied, almost laughing at how weak he made her. "I wouldn't be able to offer you the insight you need because... I'm blind around you."

Jaime nuzzled her a little more at that statement, before replying in kind. "And I'm blind around you. I see nothing but light."

Then, they sighed together, breathing as one as their chests expanded and retracted as one - concave and convex - filling the gap the other had just left. It was so warm and good and right that Brienne did not even feel like she was breaking anything when she told Jaime the truth.

"I think you should see a therapist."

For a moment, it seemed as if Jaime would push her away as he froze, interrupting the easy intimacy their bodies had created. However, his fear passed as quickly as it had arrived.

"I think you are right, wench," Jaime mumbled into her shoulder. "Why are you always right?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As ever, I love hearing what you think in a comment or with kudos <3


	26. Part XXVI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne takes some time to think about the situation with Hyle and Jaime...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, sorry this has taken so long. I now have about ten million WIPs on the go, and juggling them is quite tough! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one and, if you did, please consider leaving a comment and kudos.

After Jaime agreed to go to therapy, Brienne hoped that things would finally, _finally_ become easier between them. Through her connections at KLU, she had put him in touch with Professor Aemon Targaryen, an expert on abusive and neglectful relationships. It was strange, but Jaime seemed almost _excited_ about the proposition of talking to someone about Cersei. From just watching him, Brienne could tell his misgivings about his long-term girlfriend had weighed heavy on his soul for some time, so she was glad for him that he might finally find some way to offload the pain that had been dragging him down for so long. Some way that did not drown them both. Jaime's effort for self improvement also meant that the time they spent together could become just about them; there would be no shadows lingering over them, no worries about their relationship and what is was, no fears about the past. It was just Jaime and Brienne. The darkness would be kept at the door.

"Wench," said Jaime when he next visited Brienne and they were making cupcakes together in her kitchen.

"Mmm?"

"What do you think the deal with Shiera Seastar was?"

Brienne looked down at the bowl of cake mix, determinedly stirring the batter. "What do you mean?"

"I mean... everyone was obsessed with her. Including her two brothers."

Something ached in her chest at that reference. This was the first time they had seen each other since Brienne had put Jaime in touch with Doctor Targaryen, and she had hoped things could just be _normal_ ; no tears and hugging, no halfway sex, no traumatic back stories. Unfortunately, it seemed Jaime had other ideas.

"Jaime, if this is some covert way to get me to talk about Cersei..."

To her surprise, at the mention of his ex, Jaime flinched. "It wasn't."

Brienne blinked. "Oh."

"I was genuinely just asking about Shiera Seastar," he said, smiling at her awkwardly. "I saw this documentary about her and I just... why did you think I was talking about Cersei?"

Even as he stared at her curiously with those eviscerating green eyes of his, Brienne tried to act nonchalant. "Oh, you know... just like Shiera, Cersei is a star. Men want her. Women want to be with her. I thought perhaps you were just trying to work out what made people chase after her."

"Cersei makes you feel needed," said Jaime quickly, filling in the silence. "Needed, not wanted. She likes to make you feel as if you are filling some great hole in her life that only you can fill and if you do what she wants you are rewarded. I imagine she had lots of men filling lots of holes..."

"Jaime!" squawked Brienne, as he gave her a mischievous smile.

"What?" he grinned. "It's true. The papers seem to think that Robert Baratheon was just the tip of the iceberg and I believe them. I even went and got an STD test you know?"

Brienne's mouth fell open. They had rarely spoken about anything this intimate before. "And?"

"I was all clear, thank the gods, but I was worried for a moment because Cersei has been with half of Dorne, including Robert Baratheon, and Robert has been with all of Westeros, so I thought it best to get checked out." Even though Jaime's sexual health was a very serious topic, he was grinning at her like a teenaged boy who had just told a slightly risque joke. Dropping the nervous anxiety she had been carrying around ever since Jaime had raised the spectre of Shiera Seastar, Brienne found herself joining in with his ridiculousness and started laughing.

"Hey!" she chuckled. "Robert Baratheon has never been with _me."_

Jaime replied with a grin bright enough to illuminate the room. "Good to know, wench. Good to know, because I would be mighty jealous if he had been."

As Brienne lit up like a firework, Jaime sniggered, and then she found that she could not help but laugh with him. After that, Brienne fed Jaime some of her cupcake mixture, which made him moan appreciatively as he sucked it off the tip of her finger. She felt strangely fuzzy at the contact. Even though she tried to tell herself it did not mean anything, Brienne had to admit that spending time with Jaime away from the baggage that had weighed down on them back at his apartment made that afternoon the highlight of her whole week.

The euphoria did not last long, however, as once Jaime had gone home, Brienne decided to sit down with the one remaining cupcake that Jaime hadn't scoffed and phone Hyle. Things had been a little uneasy with her sort of boyfriend ever since Jaime came barging in on the end of their date searching for the definition of abuse, but Brienne had been working hard to make things better between them in the time since. They had even tentatively organised another date.

 _If I want to have my own life away from Jaime,_ she thought, _I have to seize it with both hands._

"Hey."

"Hi Hyle," said Brienne, using her free hand to peel the cupcake out of its wrapper. "It's Brienne. I just wondered how you were doing."

"Fine," he replied, his voice a little muffled. "Just watching TV. What have you been up to?"

"I made twelve cupcakes," she said proudly once she finally got the offending cake out of its wrapper. "I made loads, but I ate them all. I'm sure it is fine because I am technically eating for two."

"That sounds like a lot to eat," Hyle replied, his voice dripping with suspicion. "Did you make them alone or with a friend?"

"Alone," she said quickly, not wanting to bring up Jaime. During the times she had spoken to Hyle since their aborted date, Brienne had come to realise that Hyle was now quite against the prospect of Jaime being anywhere near her, so she decided lying was the best thing to do.

"Good, because I don't like that Lannister bastard being around you. I know he has rent out your womb for nine months, but that is the extent of it. He's the kind of man who sleeps with women like Cersei Marbrand, not birds like you. Once you've popped out that brat of his, he'll drop you like a hot potato, so I don't think you should kid yourself that you are _friends_ or anything. He's a user. You've got to defend yourself."

"Hyle," interjected Brienne, her tone growing a little admonishing as she put her hand on her belly and rubbed it protectively. "Don't say stuff like that."

She could almost hear him rolling his eyes. "Alright, I won't say stuff like that, but you know I am right. Let's talk about something else."

Even as Brienne worried over the fact that Hyle did have some great insight into Jaime's motivations, she was happy to take the opportunity to change the subject. "Like what?"

"Oooh, yeah, I forgot to ask. My old frat house is having a reunion party in a month or so and all the guys are bringing dates. Do you want to come with?"

Brienne bit her lip. The idea of a frat house reunion was not something she relished but as she needed to get back into Hyle's good books, she shoved down her reservations and stuck on a false smile. "Yes, it sounds good. Why don't you send me over the details, and I'll see if I can make it?"

"Perfect," replied Hyle. "You'll love the guys and I am _sure_ they will be super excited to see you."

"Great," Brienne said, an embarrassed blush flooding her cheeks. "I would like it if you introduced me..."

She did not get to finish her sentence, however, as right then she heard Hyle's doorbell ring on the other end of the line. "Sorry Brienne, Ben Bushey's here and we are going for drinks. I'll chat later, yeah?"

"Yeah, sure," she replied, trying and failing to keep her dimming mood out of her tone.

"Great, see you later."

"Yeah, see you..."

"Oh, wait one second," interrupted Hyle, stopping Brienne before she could finish her goodbye.

"What?"

"You are not going to see Jaime anytime soon, are you?" Hyle asked, his voice wound with tension, "because I think you should try and see him as little as possible. Not only does he always attempt to come between us on dates, but he is also just a massive arsehole all round, and I think we both agree that this is not going to last beyond you giving birth."

"Hyle..."

"So tell me you are not seeing him any time soon."

Brienne paused before responding. Part of her knew Hyle was speaking the truth; Jaime was the type of man who slept with the Cersei Marbrand's of the world. Even if he _did_ work out through therapy that Cersei had not been good for him, there was nothing stopping him going to find another gorgeous woman who could love him just as well as Brienne herself could, if not better. By picking this hypothetical woman over Brienne herself, Jaime would also not have to surrender being with someone attractive to gain love. Although she could try and console herself that the impossible was in fact possible - he had said _I love you_ while reeling from his breakup, and that they had matching soulmarks - in reality, Brienne had to balance that against what was real.

The Jaime Lannisters of the world never picked the Brienne Tarths.

Therefore, she found it quite easy to lie.

"No, don't worry. I am not seeing Jaime any time soon. And if I do, it's all baby related stuff."

"Oh okay, cool. We'll chat later."

"Bye, Hyle."

When she hung up the phone, Brienne took a bite of the cupcake she had made with Jaime and tried to stop the tears from falling.

She failed.

* * *

The conversation with Hyle meant that the next day Brienne only felt slightly bad when she saw Jaime. Yes, she had technically lied about seeing Jaime, but they were only meeting because of something to do with the baby; they were returning to Melisandre's _Preparing for Childbirth_ class. As the last time they had attended together Jaime had popped a boner and then all hell had broken loose, Brienne was not surprised to discover that the car journey to the class was relatively quiet, with Jaime flicking through the radio stations as a distraction.

"Hey, I liked that country music station," chided Brienne, reaching out to turn it back on. As she did so, her fingers brushed Jaime's. He blushed.

"Oh, sorry. You can listen to anything you like."

Once she found the station again, Brienne turned to volume up and then looked out of the window, watching the city roll by. So much had happened since she and Jaime had last attended Melisandre's class, but perhaps things were slightly clearer, at least for Jaime. He had worked out that Cersei was not good for him and was taking steps to rebuild the foundations of his life. In contrast, Brienne felt like everything was tumbling down around her; she only had a few more months of her pregnancy left and that meant only a few more months left with Jaime.

 _Oh well,_ she told herself, _at least there is the surety of Melisandre's insanity to keep me sane._

Given that the universe clearly liked playing tricks on her, Brienne was not surprised when Melisandre announced that they were all going to listen to some whale song and then practice the massage techniques they had learnt last time. Due to the fact the last class had been so seismic, Brienne shot a glance at Jaime, who was sitting next to her on the mat. He had gone the colour of a beetroot at the memory.

"We don't have to... if... if... you don't want."

"I _do_ want," Brienne said quietly, edging closer to him. "You were very good at massaging and... it is important we practice for when turnip gets here."

Jaime nodded and gave her a small smile. It made Brienne's heart skip. "Okay wench," he replied. "Okay."

As Melisandre put the whale song on, Jaime went and sat behind Brienne, parting his legs so she had enough room to shuffle between them. Surrounded by his warmth, Brienne could not help but pull his arms around her, placing them on her bump, wanting to get even closer. As she did so, Jaime let out a contented sigh and rested his chin on her shoulder. Something inside Brienne began to glow.

"Now everybody," came Melisandre's voice, light and mellifluous. "We are going to breathe together. If you have not already done so, would the birthing partner please reach around and take the mother's hands."

At Melisandre's instruction, Brienne felt Jaime tense slightly, so made sure to interlock their fingers for the both of them. She felt him smile against her shoulder as she did so, and it nearly made her heart burst.

"We are going to work out way up to more advanced massages this time," said Melisandre, "so I need everyone to be in a state of total ease and comfort with one another. With me... _breathe in... breathe out... breathe in... breathe out..."_

Feeling comfortable with Jaime was surprisingly easy considering everything that had happened. There was something about his hard chest against her back, his legs enclosing her, and his breath tickling her ear that made Brienne feel wanted, even though she knew deep down that this could never last.

"Breathe in... breathe out..."

 _Hyle will be cross with me,_ she thought as she began to absentmindedly skirt her fingers up and down Jaime's forearms. _This closeness is probably not what he was imagining when I told him that Jaime and I would only be seeing each other for baby related things._

However, she found it very difficult to care, especially when Jaime was here with her and it felt so close and right.

Warm and content, Brienne found she could barely pay attention to what was happening around her. Melisandre spent the rest of the session going back over the massage techniques they had learnt last time; following her instructions, Jaime rubbed his hands all over Brienne's shoulders and the top of her spine, in neat circles around each vertebra, and then in soothing motions on her lower back. Once Melisandre was happy everyone could manage the methods she had shown them, she went to wrap it up, pleased that her pupils may be able to attempt her suggestions at home.

"Now, if everyone could get back into the position that I showed you at the beginning of the class - with the mother between the birthing partner's legs - we are going to spend the last five minutes breathing together."

Without even thinking about it, Brienne shuffled backwards, pulling Jaime's arms around her once more. As they were now close enough to call it an embrace, Brienne could finally feel the effects an hour of Jaime running his hands all over her had had on him. It felt very hard.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, backing away, "I will leave you alone, I will..."

"No," Brienne replied quickly, grasping onto his arm to hold him in place. "It is fine. I know it doesn't mean anything."

"Brienne, it does..."

"Shh," she whispered, leaning back into his erection, enjoying the fact that Jaime was half hard for her. "It is fine, I promise. Let's just breathe together."

"If you are sure," he replied, his blush hot against her cheek as he put his head back on her shoulder.

"I am sure," she promised him. "It is fine."

It took a few more moments for Jaime to settle, but when he did, the two of them fell into breathing together as if it were natural. Brienne closed her eyes and imagined a world where he wasn't confused, and where they could just choose to be together without an imposing sense of obligation and destiny.

 _Hyle said that Jaime will drop me like a hot potato,_ she thought, just at the moment her Baby Daddy pressed a kiss into her shoulder. _He knows nothing._

_Jaime will want to know me after the baby is born, I am sure._

_At least... I think I am sure._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. As ever, I love to hear what you think <3
> 
> PS. ulmo80, I hope you like the fact that I put Jaime having the all clear in the text :D


	27. Part XXVII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime goes to his first therapy session...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh, I'm sorry this has been so long! Real life has just got on top of me! Also, I was a little nervous of this chapter, but I hope you enjoy it.

"Do you need anything before you go in? Some water? A snack? Do you want me to take your coat?"

"Don't worry, Brienne," said Jaime, "I'll be fine."

She looked at him concernedly. "Are you sure? Do you want me to come in with you? Obviously, I won't go in the session with you, but I can be there until you are settled."

 _Cersei would have never offered to do that in a million years,_ thought Jaime, _but then Cersei would not permit me to go to therapy, either._

"I'll be fine," replied Jaime soothingly, squeezing Brienne's hand. "Will you wait for me? I should only be an hour."

Brienne nodded. "I'll do a bit of shopping and then I'll come and meet you. How does that sound?"

"Perfect," answered Jaime, giving her a small smile. To his immense relief, she returned the expression, and then pulled him close for a hug. He could not help but wrap his arms around her, leaning into her embrace.

"You know you are doing the right thing," she said. "The _brave_ thing."

"Thanks, wench," he mumbled into her shoulder. He did not feel especially brave at that moment, but at the very least wanted to appear brave to _her_ , so when he pulled away, he gave her another nonchalant smile. "I'll be fine. You go and enjoy your shopping. I'll message you when I am out."

"Okay," Brienne replied, "make sure you do, otherwise I'll be worrying."

"There's nothing to worry about," Jaime reassured her. "I'll see you later."

"See you later."

After one last hug on the doorstep of the therapist's office, Brienne headed off down the road in the direction of the line of boutique shops along _The Hook._ Jaime watched her go, and only tore his eyes away from her when she became obscured by the shop front of a particularly ostentatious florists. In her absence, Jaime had to find the courage from within to make his next move, so, after taking a breath, he steeled himself and headed into the therapist's office.

The reception area was a small, bright white room with bunches of flowers on every surface. The minimalist perfection of the place was matched by the woman who sat at the desk; tall, with white blonde hair and grey-blue eyes, she had an easy beauty about her that was almost too perfect. When Jaime approached the desk, he discovered that she was wearing a name tag that simply said the name _Val._

"Hello," she said when he drew near. "Are you here for an appointment with Professor Targaryen?"

Jaime nodded mutely a couple of time, before remembering he had to speak. "Yes... err... it's Jaime Lannister. I think I have the one o'clock appointment."

Val turned back to her computer and began to type into it. Occasionally, she looked up at him, her expression unreadable, which made Jaime worry that she was going to ask him if he was really Jaime Lannister, and if he _was_ Jaime Lannister, why he wasn't in Dorne. He was getting back together with Cersei, wasn't he? That was what all the papers were saying, after all.

 _No,_ he told himself resolutely, _I am not getting back with Cersei._

However, no such questions came from Val's mouth, and eventually she just gave him a welcoming smile. "Everything is booked in. Why don't you wait in here until Doctor Targaryen is ready for you? He should only be a few moments."

Smiling at her thankfully, Jaime did what Val instructed, and went to sit on one of the neat white sofas to wait for Doctor Targaryen. He had been planning to spend the few minutes he had relaxing and preparing what he was going to say, but then he saw something that made his stomach swoop. On the coffee table next to him were three magazines, all of which had Cersei on the front.

_CERSEI AND JAIME: REBUILDING THEIR LOVE IN DORNE?_

_THE WATER GARDENS: INSIDE CERSEI'S EXCLUSIVE WELLBEING RETREAT_

_CERSEI AND JAIME: AN EXCLUSIVE INSIDE LOOK INTO THEIR SUMMER ISLAND WEDDING_

If the hugs with Brienne had made Jaime a little calmer, the sight of Cersei smiling on the front of various magazines just made him angry. It was clear that Cersei's publicists and his father's people had been out in force trying to paint everything as happy and wonderful, making it look like Jaime was going to take Cersei back, even after everything.

He was still busy stewing in his gloom when Val came over to find him. "Doctor Targaryen is ready to see you now. If you would like to come with me."

Without even thinking about it, Jaime tucked the magazines under his arm and then followed Val out of the reception and along a corridor. They stopped at a door at the end of the passageway, marked out by a neat little sign that read "Doctor Aemon Targaryen". Suddenly feeling very nervous, Jaime was glad that Val knocked on the door for him.

"Come in," came a voice, at which Val opened the door and gestured for Jaime to go inside. Although his insides were churning in the pit of his belly, Jaime just about found the courage to step into the room. Like the reception, it was well lit with flowers on every surface. There was even an old picture of two small boys on the wall, one as bald as an egg. It made the place feel quite homely. On an armchair in the centre of the room sat an old man with a kind face, who smiled when he sensed Jaime's presence in the room. "Ah, Mr Lannister. Come in. Sit down. Would you like some tea?"

At the question, Val darted in behind Jaime, walking across the room so she could turn on the kettle and put out cups and saucers on a tray. Jaime just looked at her confusedly. "Err... I guess."

"Don't mind her," said Professor Targaryen. "She will just pour the tea for us and will then go back to the reception. My eyesight is not what it used to be, you know."

"Brienne did not tell me you were blind," announced Jaime, a little more harshly than he intended. It was not that he found it disturbing, just unexpected.

Given his tone, Jaime was therefore somewhat surprised when Professor Targaryen let out a little laugh. "I am not blind, just visually impaired. I can still help you, rest assured. Would you like to sit down?"

Still feeling a little unsure, Jaime nevertheless went and sat down on the sofa opposite Professor Targaryen, his eyes moving from the therapist to Val as she bustled around them preparing the tea.

"So, Mr Lannister," began Professor Targaryen, "it is good to meet you."

"Please, call me Jaime," he replied quickly. "Mr Lannister is my father."

Professor Targaryen nodded. "And you don't like to be confused with your father?"

"It's not that," said Jaime reflexively, trying to defend his father where he could. "It is just that my father is _Tywin Lannister._ He's famous. Notorious. A legend. I'm just... Jaime. There's no mistaking me for him."

"Mmm," replied Professor Targaryen, nodding slowly. If the blindness had not been unnerving, _that_ certainly was.

"If you don't mind me asking, what are you _mmming_ about, Professor Targaryen?"

"Oh please, call me Aemon," he smiled, just as Val put the tea down on the table and went to leave the room.

"Okay _Aemon,_ " corrected Jaime, just as the door closed behind Val. "What are you _mmming_ about?"

To his surprise, at the question, Aemon gave Jaime an almost amused smile. "You will soon come to learn, Jaime, that as a therapist, I am almost contractually obliged to _mmm_ at any given point."

"Is that all?" asked Jaime, a bit unsure about the fact that Aemon seemed to be using humour instead of taking this whole session seriously.

"I am here to listen to your problems and to help you talk through them," said Aemon just before he took a sip of tea. "As I am sure you read in our email communication, this is talking therapy, so that is what we shall do. So, with that in mind, why don't you tell me what you wished to discuss?"

As they were sitting in a nice, bright office, and Aemon seemed quite friendly, and Jaime had a cup of tea, all in all, there seemed to be nothing to lose in trying to explain what was going on. Jaime had to speak to _someone_ after all and, as Brienne had said it was above her pay grade, it made sense to try Aemon. With that thought in mind, Jaime started with Cersei and the fact that he had been set up with her by his father, and out of duty he had agreed to go along with it.

"I thought I was in love," he confessed, "but now I just think I saw it as the easiest thing to do."

From there he spoke about his relationship with Cersei - the sex, the violence, the paparazzi - and also his desire to be a father. Looking back, Jaime thought he should have seen that bringing a baby into that nightmare was a bad idea, especially after that time that Cersei had thrown a plate at his head and he had been forced to blame the injury on an accident he had had in his studio to the press.

"But I so wanted a baby, so that was when I found Brienne."

Perhaps there was something in Jaime's tone that betrayed him, because Aemon took another sip of tea and said, "tell me about Brienne."

So then, Jaime tried to explain Brienne; Brienne his Baby Mama who was utterly selflessly carrying turnip for him, Brienne his friend, who was waiting to meet him after the therapy session so they could go shopping, Brienne his almost lover, who he had almost had sex with after he had discovered Cersei's infidelities, Brienne his soulmate, who he shared a soulmark with. Brienne.

_Brienne. Brienne. Brienne._

"Do you love her?" inquired Aemon, asking the very question that Jaime feared most.

"I don't know," he replied honestly. "Sometimes it feels like love and that we belong together, but then she said that real love involves letting the other person make their own choices. I am trying to do that but... Brienne never picks me. She's got this guy Hyle, and she wants to build something with him, so that makes me think that maybe what we have is not love because she does not return my feelings. Maybe we are just friends... but then I remember we have matching soulmarks. When I was with Cersei, I tried to rationalise that as a sign that we were _platonic_ soulmates, but I just don't know anymore."

"Do you have sexual thoughts about her?"

"Of course," replied Jaime, not wanting to deny it. "But she's carrying my child. Sometimes I think I am just thinking about her in that way because I want a family, and part of having a family would be having a partner. As Cersei can never be that again, maybe I am just jumping on Brienne as a substitute." He paused for a moment, thinking it over, returning to the same point that had plagued him for so long. "But then we have matching _soulmarks."_

Aemon nodded, his eyes full of understanding. "If you want my opinion, I think that the soulmarks are irrelevant for now, because this is not a question of what should be or can be, but what _is_ and how you feel about it. You told Brienne that you came to therapy today?"

"Yes," replied Jaime. "Actually, she was the one who suggested it after I told her that Cersei used to hit me."

"A very sensible suggestion."

"She's always right," replied Jaime, smiling at the thought of his Baby Mama. "Always."

"Have you thought about her position in your life after the baby comes?" asked Aemon.

"Yes, but only insofar as that I _want_ her in my life," confessed Jaime, feeling a little guilty as he did so. "I mean... after everything went down with Cersei, I offered to fight for Brienne's rights to my daughter in the courts but... I don't think she's interested. She wants her own life with Hyle. So, even if I did defy my father for her, I am not sure she would want me to..."

Aemon raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Defy your father? Why would you be defying your father?"

At his question, Jaime put the magazines from the reception down on the table, a knot tying in his belly. "My father still expects me to marry Cersei because if I don't... there will be hell to pay."

"In what way?"

So then Jaime found himself spilling his guts about Tyrion and Tysha, his father and Joanna Marbrand, and how more than his own happiness depended on what decision he made here. If he did not marry Cersei, Joanna Marbrand would reveal the truth about Tysha and his father would go to prison and his brother would never speak to him again. Yet, if he _did_ marry Cersei, Jaime knew he would never be happy, at the very least because he would have to give up seeing Brienne.

_Brienne. Brienne. Brienne._

"Is it wrong to defy him?" asked Jaime, his voice heavy. "Is it wrong to want to put myself above my father and my brother?"

Given everything he had learnt in his life, Jaime was expecting Aemon to answer with a resounding _yes. Family comes first,_ came his father's voice. _Family and duty._ However, instead of echoing the Lannister patriarch, Aemon just smiled at Jaime knowingly before responding in the opposite way to what he anticipated. "No. We're all human," said Aemon gently, fixing Jaime with his penetrating eyes. "We all do our duty when there's no cost to it. Honour comes easy then. Yet, sooner or later in every man's life there comes a day when it's not easy. A day when he must choose."

Jaime furrowed his brow; not quite sure what Aemon was saying. "Are you suggesting I should defy my father? Split with Cersei? Tell Tyrion the truth about Tysha? See how things turn out with Brienne?"

"I am not telling you anything," replied Aemon, an almost wry smile on his face. "It is not my place to _tell._ All I am saying is that, if you want to try work through your demons, you have to truly _choose_ to do so. There is no good doing the same things you always did without having the commitment to re-evaluating your life. Only then can you truly set yourself on the path to healing. There is no good taking an antidote when you don't know what the poison is."

In spite of Aemon's measured tone, Jaime found himself responding more passionately. " _Cersei_ is the poison," he announced, "I know she is."

Aemon smiled at him, almost sympathetically. "Sometimes, knives cut much deeper than they first appear. Tell me about your childhood."

So Jaime did.

* * *

When Jaime finished his first session with Aemon, he felt like he had been hit around the head with a baseball bat with all the talking, but his heart felt less heavy. As it was only the end of his first session, they had not got to the bottom of any of his problems, but at least they were off his chest.

He felt lighter.

"I have us pencilled in for next week," said Aemon, "but until then I want you to do that small exercise for me; if you have a decision to make, do not rush headfirst into it. Take some time and write a pros and cons list. If you do it for the small ones, in time, it will make you more willing to be less hurried when you make the big ones."

"Thank you," replied Jaime, willing to at least try. "I will see you next week."

After a goodbye to Val at the front desk, Jaime went to leave the building, getting his phone out to text Brienne. However, on exiting, he discovered he did not have to bother, as he found her waiting outside for him with two enormous ice creams.

"I thought you might be hungry," she said, going a little red. "It can be tough talking about your feelings and all that shit."

Jaime could not help but smile at the sight of her freckled face. Even if this wasn't love, their friendship brought more light to his life than anything else had in years.

"Thanks wench," Jaime mumbled, taking his ice cream off her and giving it a lick. "Shall we go for a walk?"

"Okay Jaime. Let's do that," she beamed, locking her free arm with his as they began to promenade down the street.

Just the two of them and turnip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a little Maester Aemon quote in there, so well done if you spotted it! I love to hear what you think, so please consider leaving comments and kudos :)


	28. Part XXVIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne considers what she wants...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I am so sorry this has been so long! I am putting in a concerted effort to finish my other WIPs "Evenstar", "Zombie Horror Hordes" and "What Happens at the Wall", so I have been a little negligent with this fic. Hopefully, once I have finished the last few chapters of those ones, I will be back to posting more regularly on this fic! I hope you enjoy.

Since Jaime had proclaimed his love for her at the height of halfway sex, Brienne had found it very hard to push him away. How could she not? He was so bright, so wonderful, so beautiful. Jaime Lannister was everything her adolescent self would have conjured up when asked to describe her perfect man. He was funny and cutting without being cruel. He was confident with an underside of vulnerability. He really, really, _really_ wanted someone to love. And the two of them just clicked as people, like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, made to fit together.

 _Perhaps we really are soulmates,_ Brienne thought.

Yet, in her heart or hearts, Brienne knew that transient feeling experienced at the height of passion - _love_ \- could not last for Jaime once he went to therapy. In Doctor Aemon Targaryen's office, he and his therapist would get down to the nuts and bolts of who Jaime really was; charming, rich, intelligent, handsome, _worthy._ Therefore, once he had become settled with that reality, it seemed quite obvious to Brienne that it would dawn on Jaime that he was not made to be with her, despite what their soulmarks said. He was just too much while she was just too little, he shone like a star while she was a firefly with a limp. It would never, ever work in a million years, because they were from two worlds that would just never collide.

On more optimistic days, Brienne tried to remind herself of the soulmark, and everything Lyanna had told her about her relationship with her own soulmate, Rhaegar; that such connections felt destined, transcendent, written in the stars. Searching for validation, Brienne even once stole Jaime's copy of _Soulmarks and You: What it Means About Your Fate and Destiny_ and immersed herself in its warm bath of soothing platitudes about soulmates not being complete without the other. Light and shade. Night and day. The beginning and the end. However, as she knew it was New Age rubbish, Brienne then went to the University Library and actually got some scientific monographs out on the subject to get a more rounded view of her predicament. It was not encouraging reading. Doctor Pycelle did a quantitative analysis of a thousand pairs of soulmates with matching soulmarks over a five year period, and discovered that, at the end of the study, only twenty-three of the pairs remained together in real life.

 _An old adage says that love is the death of duty,_ he intoned wisely, _but sometimes, it seems that duty is the death of love, and even more often, it is circumstance._

And in the case of her and Jaime, Brienne thought it seemed very, _very_ unlikely that circumstance would play it in her favour. Through therapy, Jaime would understand that he was not just worth so much more than what Cersei was offering him, but also what Brienne could give him. Therefore, it seemed logical for Brienne to choose Hyle, even though the decision was not replicated in the way her heart quickened whenever her phone buzzed, and it was a message from Jaime.

 _Jaime:_ WEEEENNNCCCHHHH, are you up to much tonight?

 _Yes,_ thought Brienne, even though she knew she had tentatively agreed to go and keep Hyle company during his shift at _The Iron Gate._ Even so, she replied to Jaime:

 _Brienne:_ Not much, what were you thinking?

 _Jaime:_ I can get us some tickets to see _Jenny of Oldstones_ at _The Gate Theatre_ if you want? I could do with an evening out! x

 _Brienne:_ How much is it going to cost? _The Gate_ is expensive.

 _Jaime:_ Don't worry about it. It is my treat x

She rolled her eyes. Jaime was always trying to pull well intentioned kind shit like this. It sometimes made her feel a little awkward.

 _Brienne:_ You know I do not like you spending money on me.

 _Jaime:_ Come on, Baby Mama. It's just this once. And, anyway, maybe I just want to take turnip to see _Jenny of Oldstones._ Problem is, I cannot separate her from you atm, so you are gonna have to come too x

Brienne rolled her eyes and let out a little huff of laughter; Jaime always had a way of putting things so big issues seemed a little amusing, or even totally reasonable, when in actual fact he was going to be outrageous and splurge on buying her a top of the range ticket to a super expensive show in one of the best theatres in town.

 _Jaime:_ I'll let you buy me an ice cream as compensation x

Given his belligerent tone, Brienne knew there really was no denying him so, in the end, she sent him a message agreeing to his outrageous plan, and then turned to the other issue at hand: Hyle.

 _Brienne:_ Hey Hyle. I'm really sorry but I can't come and meet you at _The Iron Gate._ I am not feeling well. I'll let you know when I am better, and we can rearrange something else.

She waited a few minutes while being inundated with messages from Jaime making more stupid jokes, until she finally got a reply from Hyle.

 _Hyle:_ Ok. Text me when you are better.

* * *

Of course, by lying to Hyle, Brienne was sure she brought the wrath of the gods down on her head, because then she actually _did_ get ill. It started as a sore throat, tickling and irritating the back of her throat, before travelling into her ears and down to her lungs, and then mutating into chills and fevers. Not wanting to get out of bed, Brienne decided not to bother doing any work that day and planned to curl up watching _Mean Maidens_ re-runs on her laptop. Before settling down for her unscheduled lazy day, Brienne went to find some cough medicine, only to discover that her cupboard was empty. Feeling terrible, she knew there was only one solution.

 _Brienne:_ Jaime, I'm really not feeling well, and I have run out of cough medicine. Do you happen to have some at your apartment?

His reply came almost instantly.

 _Jaime:_ Poor wench <3 I'll go grab you some and I'll be right over x

As Jaime had a spare key to her flat, Brienne was still curled up in bed when he came bowling in with flowers, chocolates, his copy of _The Kingslayer and the Wench,_ and several types of cough medicine. It surprised her so much that she started having a coughing fit.

"Jaime," she wheezed as he came bounding into her bedroom and plonked himself down beside her. "What... _cough cough..._ are you... _cough..._ doing?"

"Bringing you your cough medicine, wench," he smiled, resting the chocolates and the DVD down on her bedside cabinet, before locking her fingers with his. "Do you want me to go and make you up your medicine now? And are you hungry? I can make you some food."

Feeling a little overwhelmed by how sweet he was being, Brienne said, "I could do with the medicine and... maybe just a slice of toast. I'm not up to eating much."

Jaime smiled at her while giving her hand a little squeeze. "Great. I'll be five minutes. I'll also find a vase to put your flowers in."

As he got up and bounded out of the room, Brienne could not help but grin. She knew he managed his own time and worked as an when he wanted to, but Brienne could not help but feel very heart warmed that Jaime had taken some time out of his schedule to help her. He was someone important after all, whereas she was just... Brienne Tarth. Given how kind he was being, she was still smiling five minutes later when Jaime returned with her medicine, her toast, and a concerned look on his face.

"Wench, you are shivering," he said, kicking his shoes off by her door.

Brienne could not help but let out a breath of laughter. "It is very cold in here."

"No it is not," said Jaime, walking across the room to put the medicine and toast down on the table. "It is actually boiling. Do you need me to warm you up?"

At his question, Brienne swallowed nervously. It made her throat hurt. "You? Warm me up? I might make you sick."

"I don't care," Jaime smiled, his eyes strangely bright. "We could just put _The Kingslayer and the Wench_ on, and you could... I don't know... cuddle me up until you get warmer."

As he grinned at her, Brienne blushed, and she instantly knew it was not from the fever. "That sounds nice," she mumbled, burrowing further down under the covers so he could not see the effect he had on her.

"Great," Jaime responded, bounding over to the TV so he could put _The Kingslayer and the Wench_ on. Once the opening titles were playing loudly, he crossed the room once more and, without a word, slipped under the covers beside her and opened his arms.

Brienne blinked at him for a few seconds, slightly panicked.

 _He's only doing this because he feels obliged,_ she told herself, _because of your soulmark, because of turnip, because you are his only friend at the moment. Our relationship won't last forever. He will move on. He will..._

Even so, there was something so warm and inviting in Jaime's expression that she could not help but move closer to him and let him wrap his arms around her. Feeling a little self-conscious, Brienne lay quite stiffly in his arms until he started to stroke her hair, which eventually led her to rest her head on his chest, just as the Kingslayer strode on screen, starting their favourite story.

"There you go," murmured Jaime softly, pulling the blankets tighter around her and then resting one hand on her swelling bump. "Warmer?"

"Yes," she replied happily, snuggling into him to take his warmth for herself. To her surprise, Jaime did not seem to mind, and just kept stroking her hair and sighing as if he actually found it _pleasant_ to be cuddled up to his giant, ugly disease-ridden Baby Mama.

 _This won't last,_ she reminded herself as she watched the film and tried to not burst into flames at having Jaime so close. _This can never last._

_I should call Hyle. I should keep focussing on what can be rather than distant hopes and dreams._

However, Jaime was so warm, he smelt so nice, and she loved the way his fingers felt as he played with her hair, that Brienne decided to just stay where she was, only moving to take her medicine and attempt to eat a few bites of toast.

 _What is a few hours more of pretending?_ she thought.

So, in the end, she just watched the film, cuddled up to Jaime, and didn't call Hyle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked that. If you did (or didn't), I would love to hear your thoughts and feelings in the form of a comment or kudos :)


	29. Part XXIX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime has an unexpected visitor...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, thanks for coming back! I hope you enjoy this chapter... I have been building to this for a while, so hopefully it works. The song quoted in this chapter is "The Seasons of My Love". The first few lines are from GRRM, but I finished it off because we don't have the whole thing and I wanted to make it work for these characters.

_Jaime:_ If you are still feeling crap, you don't _have_ to go out with Hyle xx

 _Brienne:_ I do. He expects it.

 _Jaime:_ Nah you don't. You could just come around here and I could cook you dinner. I fancy fajitas. Or I could visit you and look after you again if you still feel rough xx

By _looking after her_ , Jaime meant getting in bed with her and cuddling her until she fell asleep in his arms. However, he did not think telling Brienne he wanted to snuggle was the best way to actually _persuade_ her to snuggle, especially since she had been behaving a little stiffly with him recently. So, instead, Jaime hid his intentions behind the veil of _looking after her again._ Brienne would ask less questions that way.

 _Brienne:_ I'm sorry, I can't. Hyle has tickets for a football game.

 _Jaime:_ As long as you are sure. xx

 _Brienne:_ I am. I'll message you tomorrow and we can arrange something later in the week.

 _Jaime:_ Sure. Don't keep me waiting though, wench. I am looking forward to seeing you. xx

 _Brienne:_ Me too x

Brienne rarely ever messaged him a kiss back, so Jaime just stared at it for a moment, even as his heart swelled with happiness. Sometimes, Jaime wondered if he had scared her away by professing his feelings to her after they had almost had sex, so he was happy she was still willing to still be close with him and even on occasion be affectionate with him. On the other hand, Jaime was still a little annoyed that she was going out with Hyle again. He tried to tell himself that it was because he was worried that she was still ill and should not be outside in this weather, but in reality, Jaime knew that was not the truth. Since he had first set eyes on Hyle, Jaime had hated his guts, and through really sitting back and considering things with Aemon, he realised it was because Hyle was getting to touch Brienne in all the ways that _Jaime_ wanted to touch Brienne.

Therefore, in an attempt to ignore the way he was feeling now he knew Brienne and Hyle were on a date, Jaime put down his phone and decided to find something to distract himself with. The TV was no good - he would no doubt run into something with Cersei in it - and he was not much of a reader, so in the end he decided that, given his Baby Mama wasn't coming around, he would bake her some cupcakes for when she felt better.

Wanting to forget everything, Jaime went into the kitchen, hooked his phone up to the speaker and played the latest _Sevenstrings_ album. The first song was a cover that had been performed by hundreds of different bands over the years, so Jaime found himself singing along as he pottered around the kitchen, getting together the flour, eggs, and sugar.

_"I loved a maid as fair as summer with sunlight in her hair._

_I loved a maid as red as autumn with sunset in her hair._

_I loved a maid as white as winter with moonglow in her hair._

_But the one I always loved the best was my spring maid,_

_With hair so fair and a heart so light._

_I love a maid as fair as spring with starlight in her hair."_

He had just lined everything up on the counter and was singing the song very loudly to himself when the doorbell suddenly rung, almost making him drop the box of eggs. "Coming!" he shouted as he dashed to turn the volume on the speakers down. Once the music was lower, he made his way across the apartment, laughing to himself. So few people ever came to visit him, that he only thought it could be one person. "If that is you, Brienne, having changed your mind about going out this evening, I am sorry to tell you, but I am going to be looking after you, whether you like it or not, so you will just have to put up with..."

When he unlocked the door, Jaime's mouth opened in horror, and he found he was barely able to speak.

"Hello Jaime," said Cersei, flicking her cascade of gold blonde hair over her shoulder. "I am coming in."

As Jaime was almost too stunned to move, he could not stop her as she barged past, slamming into his shoulder as she did so. Her assistant, Taena, dashed in afterwards, carrying a pile of documents and making lots of sheepish apologies. Feeling paralysed both at the fact Cersei was not in Dorne and that she seemingly had no qualms in marching into his apartment, Jaime had trouble closing the front door. Eventually, Taena had to put down her documents and do it for him.

"Cersei," Jaime stammered, walking into the apartment in an attempt to stop his legs shaking like a new-born fawn's. "What are you doing here?"

Her expression was a still as a statue's when she replied. "Your father said you were going to call me about setting up our reunion, and you didn't. My publicists have been working overtime to make this all go as smoothly as possible, so much so that any sighting of you on social media in King's Landing has been put down either to it being a flying visit or a mass hallucination. In case you haven't noticed, you are meant to be down in Dorne with me at the Water Gardens Rehab Facility, supporting me through my treatment, not gallivanting around the capital."

That statement finally brought Jaime out of his stupor. "Your treatment for what?" he growled, his resentment bubbling to the surface. "A smorgasbord of exotic sexually transmitted diseases? Nymphomania? Or just run of the mill sex addiction?"

"Be serious," said Cersei, her irritation barely hidden behind her words. "I am at the Water Gardens Rehab Facility to reconnect with who I am as a person."

Jaime let out a little scoff at that. "But you are not, are you? That story is all a lie. You are not at some fancy Dornish rehab because you honestly don't care, so instead you are here in my apartment. What do you want?"

Cersei had no time for Jaime's objections, as she gave him a dismissive wave of her hand. "It doesn't matter if it is not true; it just pays for the press to believe it. And seeing as you ask, the reason why I am here is that our wedding _is_ going ahead next year, and we need to make sure the narrative leading up to it makes sense, or there is going to be more than just internet blind items on our backs."

Jaime felt taken aback at that statement and found himself muttering in his disbelief. "The wedding is going ahead... next year..."

"In the Summer Isles," said Cersei imperiously, before clicking her fingers. "Taena has all the details that have been confirmed by my mother and your father about the ceremony, as well as the honeymoon."

At Cersei's instruction, Taena came forward and put the papers on the coffee table, and from a cursory look, Jaime could see photographs of white sand beaches, luxury resorts, and health spas. Every single one of them was the kind of five star paradise that Tywin Lannister would describe as a fitting holiday for the scion of a billionaire. In contrast, all Jaime could think was that Brienne would laugh at them as pretentious places for people with over inflated egos. Jaime could not help but agree.

"I think it is also best we discuss photo opportunities," said Cersei, flicking her hair. "Who will we sell my post rehab interview to? Do we want to work on a short documentary showing our life together in the month afterwards? Do we want...?"

"Our life together?" asked Jaime, baffled. "What life together? You are all the way down in Dorne doing... whatever it is you are doing... and I am here living my life... with Brienne."

Cersei let out a splutter of laughter at that. "Oh please. Where is that giant heifer today, huh? Mooing away because she's not sucking your cock?"

At Cersei's mocking question, Jaime flushed, half with embarrassment, half with anger. _He_ was the one who had pushed Brienne away with his desire for her, not the other way around. Therefore, he hated that Cersei was making it seem as if Brienne was the desperate one, as if Brienne was the one who wanted so much more, when it was him who could barely think of his Baby Mama without becoming hard.

"Don't talk about her like that..."

Cersei rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Yes, yes, yes," she said chidingly, before putting on a silly voice that Jaime assumed was meant to be an impression of him. " _Don't talk about her like that. Why do you have to be so nasty, Cers? Brenda is doing a really kind thing for us..."_

"It is _Brienne,"_ Jaime corrected angrily, "and I will not have you saying nasty things about her, Cersei, I honestly will not."

Cersei looked at him sceptically. "Why the hell not? She's just some poor person who you chucked some money at to carry our baby. Do you honestly think she is going to continue to pretend to be interested in your sad life once the money dries up?"

A chill ran up Jaime's spine with Cersei's final question. He had noticed lately that Brienne did not seem overly interested in the topic of turnip. Jaime had offered to fight for her rights in court, but since Brienne had moved out, she had not pushed the issue. Consequently, Jaime assumed she did not necessarily want to be involved in their baby's life after she was born. In the weeks since he made the offer, Jaime had been puzzling as to why that was. He had come up with several conclusions, including Brienne not wanting to feel too connected in case she got burned, but Cersei's assumption about Brienne's motivations was something new.

 _Perhaps Brienne does not want to be around me full stop, despite what the soulmarks say,_ he thought, panic building in his chest. _Perhaps I have scared her away by being too much, and she wouldn't be interested in being around us after turnip is born. Perhaps she will only stay as long as she is getting paid._

It was such a horrible thought that Jaime fell into a passive silence, allowing Cersei to push on with the conversation. "But enough talk about whatever-her-name-is. We need to sort out our plan of action concerning our public relationship in relation to interviews, social media, and even sponsorships. I really want an Iron Throne Award, and I've heard there is a role going as the Dragon Queen in Khal Drogo's new film about her all liberating the slaves in Essos and all that shit, so we are really going to have to work hard to make sure our image is tight if I am going to be in with a chance. Taena, show Jaime the potential naked charity calendar I could get involved with. Maybe it would be good if..."

Even though Cersei continued to waffle on about the schedule of interviews and social media posts they needed to make to convince the world that he had forgiven her for her indiscretions, Jaime could barely hear her, as she was drowned out by thoughts of Brienne.

_Does Brienne not want to be in my life, let alone turnip's?_

_Is Brienne only after my money? No, surely she is too good for that. She would have made it clear if it was only a transaction..._

_Oh gods, have I been forcing my company on her?_

Jaime was so lost to terrible insecurity about his relationship with Brienne, that he let Cersei and Taena talk him through the PR plan leading up to their wedding the following summer. It had obviously already been arranged in meticulous detail between Cersei, Joanna, and Jaime's father, as there was something about the almost clinical nature of some of the planned interviews that smelt of the Lannister patriarch.

"I am staying at the _Red Keep Hotel_ for a few days before flying back to Dorne at the weekend for some reshoots," said Cersei after everything was agreed and she went to leave, "so if you have any questions about the next few weeks of our schedule, let me know."

Jaime just nodded. He could not think of any words.

"And then after the last bit of shooting has been done, I can be around in King's Landing a little more often. It will good for us to be seen out in public, to confirm to the world that you really have forgiven me."

He nodded again, following it with more silence.

Taking his wordlessness for acquiescence, Cersei reached up and pecked him on the cheek before smiling at him broadly, like a cat who had got the cream. "I am glad you have reconsidered this and are listening to your father. Us being together makes sense. And you are making your father very proud."

_Making my father proud..._

Once, Jaime's cheek would have burned from the memory of Cersei's kiss, but now he felt a knot of dread in his stomach, which only grew worse once she and Taena left the apartment.

 _I've agreed to marry Cersei,_ he thought horrified. _Gods, I am actually going to have to marry her._

Overwhelmed, Jaime slumped back on the sofa and ran his hands through his hair. Why had he agreed to it? The answer was fairly obvious; Cersei had taunted him over his relationship with Brienne, and he had been momentarily weak and allowed her to walk all over him.

_Because it would make my father proud..._

With his mind nearly bursting with a storm of confused feelings, Jaime thought back to the meetings he had had with Aemon. Although his sessions were in the early stages, his therapist had talked him through his relationships with both Cersei and his father and let Jaime discover for himself that neither was necessarily healthy. On top of that, Aemon had helped Jaime recognise he had a tendency to be impulsive, so should take time before making big decisions.

 _Like agreeing to go along with Cersei's stupid PR plan,_ he thought darkly.

Knowing he needed to sort this complex issue out, Jaime decided to take Aemon's advice and went to find a pen and paper. Once he had found it, he returned to the lounge and decided to make a pros and cons list, just as Aemon had suggested. To make things a little easier, Jaime started by writing down what his gut told him he should be doing.

**Not marrying Cersei and refusing to do the PR plan**

Then, once he had done that, he took a deep breath and drew a line down the centre of the page. On one side, he listed the pros of sticking it to The Man, on the other, the cons.

**Pros**

\- Escape Cersei once and for all.

\- Be free from my father's influence.

\- Be able to live my own life and make my own choices.

\- ~~Be able to pursue Brienne (?)~~

\- Be able to be Brienne's friend.

**Cons**

\- Tabloid shitstorm.

\- My father might disown me.

\- Custody battle.

\- Tyrion will have to know.

Jaime tapped his pen against the sheet once he had finished, reading his list over and over. There were so many people to think of who would be effected by this decision beyond himself - his father, Cersei, Tyrion, turnip, and most importantly Brienne - that Jaime found himself staring at it for some time. However, after much considered thought (in the style that Aemon had suggested), the answer came to him. Looking down at the page, Jaime thought it seemed pretty clear what he needed to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... what do you think Jaime is going to do? I would love to hear what you think!
> 
> Thanks so much for reading. As ever, I love comments and kudos :)


	30. Part XXX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime makes his decision...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I got inspired after the last chapter, so here is the next bit! I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Some of the dialogue has been taken from A Storm of Swords Chapter 77. That may give you a little clue where this is going...

Steeling himself, Jaime took a deep breath as he lifted his fist to the door.

 _I have to do this,_ he thought. _I have no other choice._

_And don't I owe this to Tyrion? Don't I owe him the truth?_

When he knocked on the door, the music that was playing inside was dimmed, and then Jaime heard his brother's voice. "Coming! Coming! I've only got little legs."

Smirking to himself, Jaime's expression changed to a smile when his brother opened the door. "Hello Tyrion."

"What time do you call this?" asked Tyrion, an amused grin on his face.

"Wine o'clock, apparently," replied Jaime, pointing at the bottle in Tyrion's hand. "Can I come in?"

"Sure," said Tyrion, his voice slightly slurred as he opened the door wider. "As long as you have a drink with me."

Silently agreeing, Jaime followed Tyrion into the house, watching as his brother waddled into the kitchen, swinging the bottle of wine around. Once they were in the room, Tyrion found two glasses and began pouring the drinks.

"Are you celebrating anything?" asked Jaime, genuinely curious, as Tyrion was normally a little more circumspect about his drinking than doing it quite obviously on a weeknight.

Tyrion nodded. "Yeah, the department got funding of two million dragons from the Iron Bank to do some PTSD trials."

"That's great," said Jaime, but he could instantly tell that his words did not match his expression when Tyrion looked at him quizzically.

"What's wrong?" his brother asked, his brow furrowed. "It must be something big, as I am sure you are not here to congratulate me on funding for a project you know next to nothing about."

 _I am here to tell you the truth,_ thought Jaime, grimacing as the words danced across his mind. Not feeling able to instantly come out with it, however, Jaime tried another tack. "Some doors are best left closed."

"Oh dear," smiled Tyrion, pouring out more wine. "Is there something grim and ugly behind it? Could it be that some said something cruel about me once? I'll try not to weep. Tell me."

Jaime swallowed. His tongue suddenly felt as if it were made of lead. After a few moments of Tyrion looking at him teasingly, Jaime found the words. "Tysha," he said eventually, his stomach swooping. "We need to talk about Tysha."

Tyrion's eyes went very wide; he clearly was not expecting that. "Tysha? What about her?"

It took all Jaime's best efforts to keep looking at his brother, who was gazing at him with such intense vulnerability that it made Jaime want to weep. "She was no whore..." he eventually managed to say, his voice quiet. "That was a lie that Father commanded me to tell. Tysha was... she was what she seemed to be. A music student, who you chance met on one of your drinking benders."

Tyrion blinked; his face overcome with a deep-seated shock as if he had just been slapped. "My wife..." he breathed, so quietly that Jaime barely heard him. "She was my wife. She _wed_ me... because..."

"For gold," said Jaime, trying to keep his tone level. Considering everything he suspected had happened to Tysha after Tyrion had signed the annulment, Jaime had to try to hold onto that truth at least, like a drowning man clinging to a raft. "Father said she married you for your money."

 _Father said similar things about Melara,_ Jaime thought darkly, even as he tried to push back against that fear, _and Cersei said similar things about Brienne..._

"Money?" repeated Tyrion dumbly, as Jaime watched as this new information slowly sunk in. At that moment, Tyrion seemed stunned, but Jaime thought it would only be a matter of time before he felt the full extent of the truth. Not wanting his brother to hurt too badly, Jaime tried to tread softly.

He nodded. "Tysha was a nobody and you were a Lannister of Casterly Rock. Why would she want you for anything else? Just like Cersei and me. All Tysha wanted was the gold which, if you really think about it, made her no different from a whore so... so... it would not be a lie, not truly, and... Father said you required a sharp lesson. That you would learn from it, and thank me later..."

In his desperation to justify what he had done as a young man, Jaime had gone wading into a quagmire of half-truths, suppositions, and the safety net of things his father had told him to say years ago. He had meant to be consoling, but it was that moment that Tyrion's wide-eyed shock gave way to a rage that he had clearly been suppressing for far too long.

"Thank you?!?!" he spluttered, his eyes suddenly burning bright with emotion. "After I signed the annulment, Father had Tysha kicked out of Casterly Rock in the middle of the night, and then she was _attacked,_ and I did nothing to go help her because I felt so betrayed _._ I thought she had lied to me. I believed she was a whore. For years I have been able to push that guilt away by saying she wouldn't have been out there that night if she wasn't a goldigger but... if you lied to me, Jaime, this is all _your fault."_

With every word Tyrion's voice had raised from a furious whisper to an avalanche of shouting, but Jaime barely heard, as his mind was preoccupied by what his father had said to him when he had turned up at the apartment and ordered him to marry Cersei.

 _I think we have a leak somewhere at Lannister Industries,_ Tywin had said, _or maybe it was those animals Gregor Clegane and Amory Lorch. I don't know, but you would think they would keep quiet about their crime..._

Unwilling to believe that his father would send two hired heavies after Tysha in order to hurt her when she refused to sign the annulment, even though there seemed no other explanation, Jaime tried to fixate on the things he knew for certain. "I never knew he would kick Tysha out onto the street," said Jaime ardently, desperately seeking his brother's forgiveness. "You must believe me."

At that plea, Tyrion let out a huff of bitter laughter. "Oh must I? Why should I believe you about anything, ever? She was my wife!"

"Tyrion..."

However, there was no use. His wrath fully possessing him, Tyrion lifted up one of the glasses half filled with wine, and chucked it at Jaime, aiming straight for his head. Not anticipating a physical attack, Jaime barely had time to jump out the way, meaning that when the glass exploded on impact with the wall, a singular shard cut his cheek as it went flying by. Lifting his hand, Jaime brushed his face and found the blood. "I... I suppose I earned that," said Jaime, staring down at the blood that was wet on his finger in an effort not to look at Tyrion.

"Oh, you've earned more than that, Jaime," snarled Tyrion, suddenly a wounded animal lashing out after years of abuse. "You and our loving father, oh yes! I can't begin to tell you what you have earned!"

"Tyrion," began Jaime, wanting to calm his brother down, but he found out he could not finish the sentence before he was hit by another avalanche of Tyrion's rage.

"I once thought you were different, that you were my big brother who protected me. But I see it now; you are just like Father!"

That stung. "No, Tyrion, I..."

"Manipulative. Abusive. _Evil,"_ spat Tyrion, every word feeling like a stab in the heart. "You take and take and take and never give anything in return. You let me believe so many lies about Tysha for years because it suited your agenda, so you could continue to play the golden son in Father's eyes."

"No..." Jaime tried to shake his head and deny it, but Tyrion gave him no room to try and make amends.

"You and father both believe that a woman could only want a Lannister for his money, yet Tysha disproved that so thoroughly with me, that the truth instead must be that it is _you_ that is at fault," shouted Tyrion, his cheeks turning flushed in his anger. "No woman could ever love _you_ for anything other than your money, because you are a nasty, traitorous liar! Cersei was fucking half of Dorne and the entire cast of Moon Boy for all I know, while you were happily believing that she loved you. HA! That's _your fault,_ Jaime, because you couldn't give her what she needed."

Jaime swallowed as he thought of Cersei's enchanting smile. He had thought it poisonous, but now...

 _Perhaps Tyrion is right..._ Jaime told himself with mounting horror. _Perhaps Father is right... I am only good for my money... only interesting because I am a Lannister..._

"Brienne doesn't think that," began Jaime, desperate to push back against Tyrion's line of attack by grasping hold of the only good thing in his life and holding it aloft like a sword. "Brienne cares about me..."

Tyrion laughed cruelly at him. "Brienne? The woman who only puts up with you getting hard-ons at birthing classes because you _pay her_ to be in your life? The woman who _I_ put you in touch with because I knew she needed some fast cash for her father. _That_ Brienne? Because even if she did care about you, I would tell her to run away from you very fast because she deserves much, _much_ better than a bastard like you."

As Tyrion revealed what he really thought of him, Jaime felt as if he were deflating. Over the last few weeks he had been feeling better about things, mainly because he had been talking to Aemon and had been able to spend time with Brienne. But now?

 _Tyrion is speaking the truth,_ thought Jaime sadly. _I just don't want to hear it._

"Tyrion, can you just listen...?"

"No!" barked Tyrion, staring at Jaime in such a way that made the latter stand stock still, surrounded by broken glass. "I don't want to listen to you. All I want to do is make sure that you understand that you will get what you have earned, just like father will. I swear it. A Lannister always pays his debts."

That Tyrion would use their father's favourite phrase as a weapon against him cut more than anything. Tyrion was his brother, his closest friend; he could barely stand it that he thought so low of him. As children, they had been each other's allies. If his brother would only give him the time to explain, he would make it alright again. "Tyrion," implored Jaime, one last time, trying to get him to see sense. "I didn't mean..."

"Get out," growled Tyrion, pointing at the door.

"But..."

"Right now. I don't want to look at you. I don't want to talk to you. I don't care to see you ever again."

A shiver went up Jaime's spine. "You don't mean that."

"I do," replied Tyrion passionately, his face contorted until it almost resembled a gargoyle. "Because of you, I lost the only person who ever loved me. What makes you think I would want to see you?"

" _I_ love you," said Jaime, the words coming out in little more than a croak. "You are my brother."

Tyrion just laughed once more; bitterly, darkly, cruelly. "No you don't. You do not know how to love. Get out."

Staring at his brother, Jaime remembered the two little boys playing in the grounds of Casterly Rock that they had once been. Tyrion had liked playing Cops and Robbers and, knowing that he was bigger and stronger than his brother, Jaime had always let him win. It had felt like love to him then.

 _But I don't know what love is,_ thought Jaime sadly as he gave Tyrion a curt nod and made to leave the kitchen. _So how could I have ever loved my brother?_

Tyrion silently frogmarched Jaime from the house; not looking at him, not permitting him to speak, not wanting to listen to his side of the story. It just made Jaime feel very very cold. When Tyrion's front door finally slammed shut behind him, Jaime was left wondering if the price of freedom was worth it.

_A life without anyone loving me at all._

_Great. Just great._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHH! I hope you liked that! As ever, I love comments and kudos because I love to know how I am doing, and every comment inspires me to write faster!


	31. Part XXXI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne gets worried about Jaime...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, so apparently I'm getting a little bit of inspiration with this fic at the moment, so I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's lots of talking but at least they are actually saying something LOL.
> 
> There is a passing mention of rape in this chapter. Be warned!

Although she was a lover of football, Brienne thought the game between the _King's Landing Kingmen_ and the _Skagosi Swordsman_ was fairly boring, mostly due to the fact that it was still nil/nil at half-time. Hyle did not seem to care, however, as he was getting very _very_ agitated about it.

"That Baelish is a cheat you know," growled Hyle when Petyr Baelish got away with fouling Marillion for what felt like the four-hundredth and seventieth time, "and you just _know_ he is going to take the offer that the _Lannisport Rangers_ are going to dangle in front of him during the transfer window."

Brienne raised her eyebrow at him quizzically. "How do you know the _Lannisport Rangers_ are going to make Baelish an offer?"

Hyle looked a little sheepish for a moment, before saying, "Tywin Lannister owns the _Rangers,_ and he has an eye for cheats."

Without even thinking about it, Brienne put her hand over her belly, somewhat protectively. Alys was Tywin's granddaughter, after all. "What made you come to that conclusion?" she asked, trying not to think of Tywin Lannister's son, and how he definitely wasn't a cheat, or underhanded, or bad. He was just Jaime.

Averting his gaze from her in light of her slightly judgemental expression, Hyle shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, you know. Just being observant _."_

As Brienne secretly suspected Hyle was being _observant_ about Jaime, she clamped her mouth shut. She did not want to talk about him, as discussing the topic of her Baby Daddy with Hyle would only unleash an undercurrent of tension into the date that she really did not need. Part of it would be due to the fact that Hyle just did not like Jaime, but mostly it was because ever since Jaime had got into bed with her and looked after her while she was ill, Brienne had not been able to get him from her mind.

Her heart would skip a beat when she remembered how well her arms had fit around his warm strong body, how his breath had felt tickling her ear, the smooth rhythm of his fingers drawing lazy circles on her back. Brienne had often felt that she and Jaime just fit together, but before her illness it had just been a spiritual thing. The word soulmates did not indicate anything about the body. However, lying in bed together had turned it into something physical, something which it had never been, save for that brief mad moment when they had ripped one another's clothes off when swimming in a whirl of fear, worry, and relief after Cersei came back to town.

 _This change is not a good thing,_ Brienne thought as she let Hyle take her back to his flat, make her a coffee, and then continue to moan about football. _I can't let myself feel these things for Jaime, not when everything is so difficult at the moment._

Even though she tried not to, she was still thinking about Jaime sometime later when Hyle's was feeling her up over her shirt and she was bringing him off with her hand. With Hyle, everything they did together always felt like an exchange; a touch for a touch, an orgasm for a... frustratingly pleasant feeling.

In her fantasies, Jaime enjoyed the giving as much as the receiving.

Once she and Hyle had finished fooling around, Brienne got up to go and turned the light back on so she could see him. His cheeks were a little flushed, but otherwise he showed no effect of all the things they had just done together. Shooting him a small smile, Brienne picked up her handbag and walked to the door, Hyle following.

"Bye," she said once she had stepped outside. "I'll see you soon."

Hyle nodded. "Maybe not before the frat reunion next week, though. I've got quite a few shifts at the bar coming up."

 _Oh shit,_ thought Brienne, _I forgot about the frat reunion._

Trying to cover herself, Brienne said, "oh, of course. Well, it gives me more time to go shopping for my dress, I suppose."

"Yeah," conceded Hyle, "how many maternity wear gowns do they make?"

"You would be surprised," smiled Brienne, drawing close to him for a goodbye.

After a kiss had been exchanged for a kiss, Brienne made her way out of Hyle's apartment block back towards the bus stop, her lips still swollen from the date. All things considered, Brienne thought she had several things to think about - her thesis, her shift at Seaworth's the following day, the fact she was starting to waddle instead of walk because of her pregnancy - but one issue occupied her mind.

Jaime.

 _This isn't fair,_ she told herself. _I had my life in order. Why did he have to come barging on in?_

* * *

If Brienne had hoped to wake up the next morning with her mind clear of thoughts about her abominable Baby Daddy, she was to be disappointed, as his green eyes were the first thing she thought of when she was free of the post-sleep haze.

That and the fact he had not contacted her.

It was unlike Jaime. Normally, he would fuss around her like a mother hen, even if it was only by text message, checking she had eaten, how she was feeling, and what she was doing that day. Instead, there was just nothing. Consequently, she decided to message him because she felt a little uneasy.

 _Brienne:_ Hey Jaime, how are you doing this fine morning?

As he worked as a photographer, Jaime was able to manage his time and often scheduled things in short bursts so he would have breaks in between. Usually this meant that Brienne did not have to wait long for Jaime to respond, but she found he had not even read it after she had finished her breakfast, nor when she went for a shower and got changed. Therefore, she tried again just as she left her flat for work.

 _Brienne:_ Hey Baby Daddy, can I come around later? I feel I will need to moan about stacking shelves while pregnant.

Brienne was lucky that Davos was such an indulgent boss, as it meant she could check her phone while working. Normally, she would not take advantage of his kindness, and would only have a peek when the shop really was not busy. However, seeing as Jaime had still not responded, she just kept nervously looking every few seconds, hoping against all hope that he would send her a casual emoji at least.

When Jaime had still not replied by lunchtime, Brienne cast her net wider and messaged Tyrion, crossing her fingers that his brother had been in contact.

 _Brienne:_ Hey, Tyrion. I'm just texting you because I have not heard from Jaime all day and it is not like him. I have you seen him?

The reply came back very quickly.

 _Tyrion:_ I don't give a shit where Jaime is. And neither should you.

Brienne had not been expecting that. Tyrion had been the one who introduced her to Jaime in the first place, after all, with the assurance that his brother was a good guy who would appreciate some help. Therefore, given Tyrion's aggressive tone, Brienne felt compelled to reply.

 _Brienne:_ Why not? Have you had a falling out or something?

She watched as the three dots of doom danced on her screen, betraying that Tyrion was taking his time in answering. He stopped once, then re-started, then stopped again, before finally coming up with a response that chilled her heart.

 _Tyrion:_ I never want to see him again. You should get out while you still can. He might play the caring friend, but he is poison.

Shocked by Tyrion's tone, Brienne spent the rest of her lunchbreak trying to call him. She eventually got through on the fifth attempt.

"Hey Tyrion, what...?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Tyrion snapped back quickly. "I don't want to talk about what happened. I don't want to talk about _him._ "

Brienne was baffled. In all the time she had known Tyrion, he had been positively glowing about Jaime. This volte-face was therefore extremely unnerving. "Tyrion, you can't just leave me like that. What has he done? You can't tell me to get out while I still can and then not tell me why."

" _He_ can tell you why," spat Tyrion, his rage palpable, "because I don't want to think about this... I don't want to go through this again. I'll talk to you later."

And with that, Tyrion hung up, leaving Brienne very, _very_ worried.

* * *

Having had no contact from Jaime by the time her shift finished, Brienne made her way over to his apartment. She hoped he was okay. Whatever had happened between him and Tyrion sounded quite major, as Brienne had always pegged Tyrion as the type to hide his upset behind dark humour. That it had been brought out into the open therefore meant it had been a blazing row, or that it cut so deep there was no way to bind the injury.

"Jaime?" she called as she knocked on the door. "Jaime?"

Nothing.

"Jaime, look, this isn't funny," she said, her voice betraying her worry. "I spoke to Tyrion and I know you've had an argument, so I'm just concerned... that's all. Will you let me in so we can speak?"

Nothing.

Brienne then came to the realisation that playing Miss Nice Girl was not going to work. "Jaime, if you don't open this door right now, I am going to kick it down, do you understand me? And you've told me before this is very expensive polished Northern wood, so you don't want it to be scuffed, do you?"

As she suspected, her threat to his nice door was eventually what did it. It took a few moments of huffing and disgruntled swear words before Jaime eventually appeared, and when he did so, Brienne's mouth opened in shock. After all, Jaime Lannister was the only man in the world who could look like half a god and half a corpse at the same time. The only thing he was wearing was a pair of low slung jeans, leaving his wonderfully carved chest peppered with golden chest hair totally on display. However, given that he had not shaved and that his eyes looked red raw from crying, all Brienne's thoughts of his unshakeable sexiness were gone in a moment.

"Oh Jaime," she said tenderly, reaching forward so she could cup his face in her hands. "What's the matter?"

Jaime shook his head, forcing her to drop her hands. "Nothing. It's all my fault anyway and I..."

Not having any time for his self-pity, Brienne put both hands on his shoulders and gave him a little shove back into the apartment. "I'm not listening to this. I am going to make us a cup of tea, and then you are going to sit down and tell me what is going on, without getting all mopey and miserable. Because this is real life, kid, and sometimes a problem shared is a problem halved."

Once Brienne had closed the front door behind her, Jaime gave her a tentative nod, which she took for acquiescence. Knowing instantly what she needed to do, Brienne marched to the open plan kitchen and made them both a tea, before directing him to the living space. The second she had put the drinks down on the coffee table, Brienne directed Jaime to sit beside her on the sofa, forcing him to look at her.

"So, tell me," she began with the authority of a school mistress. "What did you and Tyrion fight about?"

Jaime answered in one word, which succeeded in not illuminating the issue for Brienne in the slightest. "Tysha."  
  
"What is Tysha?" asked Brienne, gazing at Jaime curiously, even as he started to deflate.

"She was... Tyrion's wife, before my father forced them to get an annulment," replied Jaime, not looking her in the eye.

Brienne raised an eyebrow at him. "Why did he do that?"

"Because she was a nobody from nowhere," said Jaime quickly, in such a way that made Brienne realise he was purposefully trying to avoid her gaze. "And Lannisters of Casterly Rock don't marry nobodies from nowhere."

Brienne gulped. She thought it highly likely that Tywin Lannister thought she was a nobody from nowhere, and the thought of all the drama she and Jaime would have to endure if they ever tried to become a couple made her feel quite sick.

 _No,_ she told herself. _You are with Hyle. Remember._

"And why were you fighting about this now?"

Just then, Jaime looked back at her, and she saw a lifetime of sadness and guilt in his eyes. "I told him the truth."

And the truth turned out to be something very heavy indeed. When he was very young, Tyrion had got married to a music student named Tysha, and in an attempt to force his son to have the marriage annulled, Tywin Lannister had Jaime tell Tyrion that Tysha was a whore they had hired to make him a proper man. Jaime had done it in the belief that, although Tysha wasn't a whore, she was still a gold digger, as no woman could love a Lannister man for anything but his money. After hearing that lie, Tyrion had signed the annulment, and Tywin had had Tysha removed from Casterly Rock.

"He kicked her out in the middle of the night," said Jaime, his voice on the precipice of a sob, "and whilst she was trying to find somewhere to stay, she was brutally attacked. Raped."

Brienne's stomach dropped through the floor. "Raped?"

Jaime nodded. "I don't know for sure, but I suspect my father ordered it, as she had refused to sign the annulment. I don't want to believe it, but I can't help but suspect..."

"If that is true," said Brienne carefully, not wanting to startle Jaime even though she felt disgusted with his father, "then this is a very serious crime."

Jaime buried his face in his hands. "I know! But what do you expect me to do? Supposedly, Joanna Marbrand also knows something, because she is threatening my father with it." After that confession, Jaime told Brienne all about how his father had been attempting to force him to marry Cersei by threatening to tell Tyrion of Jaime's involvement in the Tysha lie.

"I don't want to marry Cersei, so I made a pros and cons list like Aemon advised, and the biggest con of all was if I refused to marry her, I would have to tell Tyrion the truth about Tysha. So I did, but he refused to listen to my side and threw a glass at me..."

 _Why is there so much anger in the Lannister family?_ Brienne wondered, thinking back to her own childhood. Yes, she and her father had lost Galladon and Brienne's mother young, but Selwyn Tarth had never tired in making sure Brienne felt nothing less than treasured. Therefore, she could not believe how cruel Tywin Lannister had been to both of his sons; Tyrion in ending what could have been a long and loving relationship, and Jaime in forcing him to become complicit in ruining his brother's happiness.

It was cruel. _Evil._ And both sons were his victims.

"You need to talk to Aemon about this," Brienne said firmly, reaching out and putting a hand on Jaime's heaving shoulder. For all she cared about and loved Jaime, she could not help him resolve these feelings, only hold him close and make him feel comforted. Only his therapist could help him through these thorny emotions to something approaching peace on the other side. "He can help you deal with this and come up with a way to patch this up with Tyrion, I know you can..."

"Tyrion told me nobody loves me," said Jaime hoarsely, suddenly looking as if he were carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Brienne gasped, horrified that Tyrion could say something so cruel, even in a fit of anger. "I hope you told him to shut his mouth."

"No," replied Jaime, with a bitter laugh, "because he's right and I..."

"And now I'm going to tell you to shut _your_ mouth, because it is not true!" Brienne said forcefully. "I will not have you wallowing in self-pity, Jaime Lannister, especially as you know full well Tyrion only said that because he was furious."

Jaime's expression showed her that he did not believe her. "Really? Because from where I am standing, it is true. I thought Cersei loved me. She doesn't. My father... well, what can I say about my father? And now I've ruined everything with Tyrion. So who is left?"

That he was so blatantly forgetting her existence made her quite annoyed. "What about me?"

Jaime's eyes went very wide. "What about you?"

"I love you," Brienne insisted, somehow managing to keep her words steady. "Are you going to forget about me so willingly?"

She did not think Jaime's eyes could go any wider, but they did when he began to splutter, "Tyrion said you were only hanging around for the money... that you..."

Brienne let out a derisive huff. Tyrion description of her had made her feet quite irritated after all. "Is that what you think of me?" she replied tersely, "that I am some gold digging hussy?"

"No! Of course not!" replied Jaime, his horror evident on his face.

"Good," said Brienne forcefully, "because I would want to spend time with you even if you weren't giving me all the gold in the mines of Casterly Rock, because I love you, Jaime. I really, truly do."

It was as if the sun rose in his eyes. "You love me?" he asked, his voice cracking.

"Of course I do," she replied, shaking her head as if it were a stupid question. "How can you even ask me...?"

She never got the time to finish her question, as all the air was suddenly pushed out of her lungs when Jaime enveloped her in a tight hug, so close that she could almost feel his chest hair through the thin material of her shirt. Hardly able to resist, Brienne reciprocated in a second, and just prayed to all the gods she knew that Jaime could not feel her heartbeat hammering wildly in her chest, seemingly wanting to punch through her ribcage to get as close to him as humanly possible.

They stayed like that for a few moments, until it became clear that one of them had to put a label on their physical closeness.

"In what way do you love me?" asked Jaime gently, pulling back from the embrace so he could look at her. The softness in his gaze made Brienne's stomach swoop. "Like in a best friends platonic soulmates kind of way, or an _in_ love kind of way?"

As he asked the question, there seemed to be nothing in the world but Jaime, staring at her with those green eyes that she was sure could burn through her skin. She had an answer for him - that she was _in_ love with him - but right at this moment, it did not seem to fit. Loving someone was not solely about feelings, but about everyday decisions, about consciously caring for the other person, and trying to put them first. How could she do that with everything that was going on? The baby, Cersei, Tywin, Hyle, and the sheer weight of expectation crashing down on their shoulders due to their matching soulmarks. Brienne did not feel it was possible for her and Jaime right now... if ever.

Therefore, she decided to lie.

"In a platonic soulmate kind of way," Brienne eventually said, forcing her mouth into a smile. She hoped it did not look too unnatural, as she was an appalling liar and an even worse actress. Luckily, Jaime seemed to believe her.

"Oh," he replied quietly, breaking their eye contact in order to look back down at his hands.

 _Does he sound... disappointed?_ wondered Brienne, as he started to worry at his lip.

Not liking his glum expression, Brienne reached out and took his hand, locking their fingers together. "That's not a bad thing," she insisted, caressing his skin with her thumb. "I want to spend time with you, I care about you... I don't want to stop seeing you after the baby is born."

"You don't?" replied Jaime, starlight in his eyes.

"Of course not," smiled Brienne, squeezing his hand. "You make me so happy, Jaime. You are one of my best friends, and I've not had too many best friends, so this makes what we have _special."_

At her words, his eyes went a little bit sparkly, and she could not tell whether it was with happiness or despair. "I love you too, Brienne. And even after turnip is born... even if you don't want to be her mother, you still need to be in her life, as my _friend,_ and as Cool Auntie Brienne to our daughter."

Feeling the need to be close to him, Brienne let go of his hand and pulled him into another embrace. Jaime reciprocated at once, pushing his bare chest against her, and it momentarily made her regret her lie. What would it be like if she could call Jaime her boyfriend? If they could really make a go at it with turnip, and be a proper family?

 _We would have to fight for custody with Cersei,_ she reminded herself. _And I would have to go against Tywin, who might be a deranged criminal. I could be another Tysha. And what about the press? Surely the whole world would laugh at the fact that he chose me over Cersei. They wouldn't believe it because she is so beautiful and I so ugly, and think I was blackmailing him, or worse..._

_I would be a figure of ridicule._

"Do you want to watch a film?" she said eventually, pulling away so she did not have to feel the pleasant torture of his perfectly-sculpted body pressed against hers.

Jaime looked at her confusedly, perhaps not wanting the cuddle to end. "Okay," he said, a little resignedly.

Sensing his disappointment, Brienne smiled at him. "After we've put the film on, I can put my head in your lap, and you can stroke my hair if you want."

Brienne knew it sounded ridiculous the moment it came out of her mouth, that it was a stupid and absurd offer. Nevertheless, Jaime's face brightened at the suggestion. "Yes," he nodded, "I would like that."

Consequently, they did just that. Once the film had started, Brienne rested her head on the pillow in his lap, and Jaime set about stroking her hair as they watched _Pretty Knight._ Normally, she would not permit anyone to be so gentle with her - she was not the type of woman who was ever touched reverently in the way that Jaime was stroking her, after all - but it felt so nice she could hardly resist. They stayed that way until a good forty-five minutes into the movie, when the beautiful lady knight and her love snuck into the woods together for some time alone. Perhaps it was the romantic music, or the lush beauty of the female star on screen, but something evidently compelled Jaime to speak.

"I haven't changed my mind, you know," he said quietly, curling a strand of her hair around his finger to make a ringlet.

There was something about his soft tone that made her blush, so Brienne kept her eyes on the TV screen, not wanting him to see her weakness. "About what?" she asked, trying sound as expressionless as possible.

"About what I said to you when..." his words momentarily stalled, before Jaime decided to push on through, "... when we almost had sex."

Brienne froze. They had not spoken about that time much, because it caused lots of unnecessary angst. Sensing her tension, Jaime moved his hand to Brienne's cheek and began to stroke her as if she were a slightly skittish horse he was about to ride. That thought just made her flush even harder.

"What did you say?" she asked, her voice little more than a squeak.

He took a deep breath, before throwing the words out all at once. "That I am in love with you."

"Jaime..."

"No," he said firmly, continuing to touch her with the utmost care. "Don't tell me that I don't know what I'm feeling, or that I am confused, or this is all about Cersei. I know what I feel. I am _in love with you,_ because of course I am. How could I not be? _"_

At that statement, Brienne could not take it anymore, so she sat up and straightened herself up, _Pretty Knight_ still playing in the background. "Jaime... don't do this now..."

"I'm not doing anything," he said, catching her wrist with his hand, stopping her from moving away. The strength of his grip was matched by the ardent look in his eyes.

"Yes you are," Brienne said challengingly, trying to withdraw in an effort not to feel vulnerable. "You are trying to make me all confused, even though I am with Hyle and we _can't..."_

Jaime rolled his eyes at the mention of Hyle, but then he gazed at her again, and his expression was half annoyed, half imploring. "I know. I know you are with Hyle. I know we _can't._ You love me as a platonic soulmate. I _know._ It's just... when I was brainstorming whether to break it off with Cersei, one of the pros I put down was that I would get the opportunity to pursue you."

 _Pursue me?_ thought Brienne, slightly terrified. Brienne was not the kind of girl who got _pursued,_ and it made her feel like a predator was stalking her on the horizon. Yet Jaime was gazing at her so softly that she almost felt thrilled.

"Jaime..."

He let out a little laugh on seeing her expression. "Don't worry. I know you don't want that, so I crossed it out, and replaced it with getting the opportunity to be your _friend_. I've never had many of them either."

As Jaime looked set to go off on a ramble, Brienne stayed still and just watched him intently, even as he loosened his grip on her wrist. "You were right about us needing our own lives, our own space to process things, so I don't want to force you to feel anything for me that you don't. I am in love with you, yes, but this is not about me. I want you in my life because you make me happy, and if that is just as friends and you as turnip's Cool Auntie Brienne, that is fine. I won't push anything. I won't ask for more. I just wanted you to know how much I care about you, and that my feelings won't change. I wanted you to know how much you are loved."

If Brienne was still the romantic girl she had once been, at that moment, she might have completely melted at those words. Yet, deep down, she suspected Tyrion and Hyle were partly right. Although he would not mean to, there would come a time when Jaime did not need her anymore and would undoubtedly move onto pastures new. He was rich and beautiful, after all, and she was just... Brienne.

Perhaps he sensed her tumult, because then Jaime let go of her wrist and shuffled closer as if he wanted to bind her to him just through proximity and touch.

"Just please promise me one thing," Jaime asked, his eyes suddenly full of hidden meaning.

"What?"

"That you are being truthful with me about how you feel," he replied, holding her hand once more. "I know it is difficult to make yourself feel vulnerable, but I want the truth from you... _always._ Before anything else we are friends, and friends can tell each other anything."

 _Friends also do the right thing by one another,_ Brienne thought firmly, _even if that means lying._

"I am telling you the truth," she said, trying to stop the blush rising in her cheeks. "I am your friend, Jaime. I'll always be your friend, because I love you."

Jaime smiled at her crookedly, which may have been hiding his sadness, but was still so dazzling it took her breath away. "Good," he grinned. "That makes me so happy."

Overwhelmed by it all, Brienne leant in and pressed a kiss on his cheek, wanting him to feel all that she held inside for him. Jaime thought he loved her now, yes, but the time would come when he would see things clearly, that a porcelain teacup like him could never be in love with a great big aurochs like her. When they broke apart, Brienne was surprised to discover that Jaime was blushing profusely. Locking eyes with her, he patted the pillow on his lap coaxingly, and it was enough to persuade Brienne to put her head back on it and let him stroke her hair once more. It really was the nicest feeling in the world.

 _I can't tell him,_ she thought as she tried to focus on _Pretty Knight_ once more. All things considered, she thought she was making this easier for him. Without the added complication of them being an item, Jaime could work out how to be a father without falling out with his own father or dealing with Cersei's unnecessary bile. Jaime had so much going on in his life, that if Brienne could do her small part in making things simpler for him, she would.

She _was_ in love with him, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading. As ever, I love to hear what you think in the form of comments or kudos :)


	32. Part XXXII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime goes to see Aemon...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for coming back everyone! I hope you enjoy this chapter; I thought Jaime needed to give a greater consideration to his feelings before we storm off into the next section of the story (I've been looking forward to the next chapter for a while), so I hope you see the need for this little bit of introspection.

Even though some days it felt like the clouds were clearing, as it turned out, things could never be truly simple for Jaime.

When he went to meet Aemon, he liked to go a little early so he could sit in the waiting room and get in the zone. Normally, that just included deep breathing and thinking about Brienne, but at his next session, he found he was interrupted by his phone.

 _Taena:_ Mr Lannister, I am sorry for contacting you this way, but you really need to answer Cersei's calls. We need to get the PR narrative sorted ASAP. Some stupid blind item websites have got hold of the fact that you are not actually in Dorne and Cersei is not actually in rehab, so we need to work out our story fast. Can you please call her?

Sighing, Jaime's thumb hovered over the _Block_ button. He really considered doing it; he didn't care about press releases or Cersei's career. However, ever since his fight with Tyrion, Jaime had been reconsidering finishing his relationship with Westeros' most famous actress, as his brother's reaction to the truth about Tysha would be nothing compared to what followed.

_My father would go nuclear and Cersei would drag me through the mud in front of the world for being an unsupportive boyfriend. And then she would pull Brienne and turnip into my mess too..._

Putting his phone back in his pocket, Jaime closed his eyes and tried to breathe. If he thought about things too much, he would get too worked up to talk to Aemon and he did not want that. So he sat back and thought of Brienne; her smile, her laugh, her eyes. It calmed him down enough that by the time Val called him over for his appointment with Aemon, he even had a little grin on his face.

"Ah, Jaime," said Aemon when his patient entered the room, "would you like some tea? I have just boiled the kettle?"

"Yes please," replied Jaime as he sat down on the sofa, folding his arms in his lap as Aemon pottered around, getting together a teapot and little spoons for the sugar. It all seemed strangely civilised considering that Jaime was here to spill his darkest thoughts and have Aemon analyse them to an absurdly high degree.

Once the teapot was sat on a tray on the coffee table and Aemon was comfortably ensconced in his seat, his therapist gave Jaime a cheery smile and began to scrutinise him with those all-seeing eyes of his. "So, Jaime. How has your week been?"

"Fine," answered Jaime, dropping his gaze to his hands. _Fine_ was the understatement of the century.

Even though could not see Aemon's face, Jaime could tell that he was giving him a searching look. "Fine?" he asked sceptically. "What was fine about it?"

Jaime had always thought he was quite strong, but at that mildly interrogative question he cracked like a nut. "I told Tyrion about Tysha," Jaime said quickly, every word coming out in a rush.

There was a momentary pause. "Oh," replied Aemon, nodding slowly. Jaime had told Aemon about the Tysha situation before, and the therapist had taken it with the same inscrutable _mmming_ as he did everything else. It meant that when he next responded, his tone was level. "What made you decide to do that?"

"Cersei visited," confessed Jaime, his ex-girlfriend's gloating expression appearing in his mind's eye. "She has some big plan of how we are going to present to the world that we are all happy and in love, and that we are still going to get married. I knew that if I wanted to be free of that, I would have to tell Tyrion the truth, otherwise Cersei's mother would spill the secret that my father had a hand in what happened to Tyrion's ex-wife."

"So you decided to tell him?"

"Yes," said Jaime, trying to sound nonchalant, even though the thought made him sick. "And I owed him the truth... after all these years."

"And how did he take it?"

Jaime lifted a hand so he could point to the scar on his cheek. "He threw a glass at me, told me nobody loved me, and he never wanted to see me again."

Aemon's expression dimmed, before he let out a characteristic "mmm".

"What are you _mmming_ about now?" asked Jaime, feeling a little tense that he was having to expose his relationship with his brother so easily.

"How do you feel about the fact that your brother told you no one loves you?" asked Aemon, taking no prisoners. "Do you believe him?"

Jaime weighed up the questions for a few moments. When Tyrion had first said it, Jaime _had_ believed it. Of course, he had only recently realised that Cersei did not want him for anything other than the status he could give him, and his father had always been distant. That had left Tyrion as the sole person who loved him, and to have that all ripped away...

"I believed it at first," confessed Jaime, somewhat guiltily, "but then Brienne came and told me to stop being ridiculous and that she loves me."

The thought of what she had done for him made Jaime's heart swell with happiness, and he only realised he was grinning when Aemon pointed it out. "It is good to see you smile when you talk about Brienne. She is the only person who makes you smile when you talk about them."

At Aemon's statement, Jaime added a blush to his stupid beaming. "Well, she is very special to me... so much so that she was the main reason for telling Tyrion the truth. If I am free from Cersei, I thought I would be able to pursue things with Brienne. But... since talking to her... I realised that there does not seem to be much point in ending things with Cersei when what I want, what I really, _really_ want, won't be available out the other side."

Aemon raised his eyebrow in curiosity. "And what is it that you really, really want?"

The answer was only one word. "Her."

A smile curled across Aemon's face, enigmatic but kind. "The last time we spoke about Brienne, you said you did not know how you felt about her."

"I've had time to reflect and I know what it is now," replied Jaime, his passion leaking through with every word. Overcome by the strength of his feeling, Jaime's confession just tumbled out of him. "I want Brienne. I want her to dump that stupid guy she's dating, because she should be with me. I want to live with her. I want her to be the mother of my daughter, and if she wants any more kids, I will happily be their father. I want her to be in my life, and for me to be in hers. I want us to try and build something together, even though I am a broken mess and she is far, _far_ too good for me. I want that because we just work together, and I couldn't imagine my life without her."

"It sounds like love," said Aemon a little wistfully.

"It _is_ love," Jaime admitted, almost too choked up to speak. "But she doesn't love me in that way... she said so herself."

Aemon furrowed his brow, intrigued. "When?"

Jaime thought back to that moment when she had visited, and he had persuaded her to rest her head on her lap. Once her had her there, her hair splayed out on his lap, Jaime had not been able to resist touching her. He had started playing with her hair, which was soft as silk, and later allowed himself to touch her face, gently so not to startle her. Cersei had never let him be so soft. Therefore, even if Brienne did not love him back, he would be forever grateful that she had allowed him to experience some tenderness from someone, although she only saw him as a friend.

"When she came to see me, because she had heard about everything that had gone down with Tyrion and wanted to check I was alright." To be honest, Jaime was still reeling from that, as nobody had ever cared about him in that way before. "I told her that Tyrion had told me that no one loved me, and she said that I should shut my mouth because it was not true. _She_ loves me."

Brienne's face had been flushed and eyes bright as she had used that word - _love_ \- and it had made Jaime's heart feel like it wanted to punch its way out of his chest so it could be nearer her. For a beautiful moment, he had thought they would stop this weird game they had been playing for months and just admit the truth, but then she had retreated behind that well-worn phrase - _platonic soulmates_ \- and told him they were just friends.

"And how did you feel about that?" asked Aemon, taking a sip of his tea.

In response, Jaime smiled at him sadly. "At first, I was ecstatic, because I thought that meant she wanted to be with me, but then she said she loved me in a platonic way and now... now losing everything with Tyrion seems so pointless, because what do I get out of destroying my entire life... if Brienne does not want to be with me?"

On the last word, Jaime heard his voice crack, and he ran his hands through his hair to try and keep his emotions under control. Part of him expected Aemon to sympathise, but then his therapist said, "do you really see removing yourself from an abusive relationship as destroying your life? And do you need a prize for doing it?"

Aemon's questions pierced too close for Jaime's pride to take, so he bit back. "Brienne is not a prize. She is a person with her own will and her own mind. I don't see her as a prize."

"Good," replied Aemon with a gentle smile, "because you extracting yourself from Cersei and your father has nothing to do with Brienne. It is a totally separate issue."

"It is?" asked Jaime bemusedly.

Aemon nodded. "Of course. Being with Brienne has nothing to do with Cersei, or your relationships with your father and brother. Those things are all about your past and about how you feel about yourself. Can you truly be independent? Can you feel worthy without your father's approval? Do you need Tyrion's love to keep you grounded? In contrast, Brienne is a potential future. You talk about wanting a family with her, but none of that can be pursued until you've sorted everything out with your father and Cersei."

"Why not?" Jaime whined, suddenly petulant and irritated. "The only time I ever feel happy is when I am with her. Surely I can make her see that we are meant to be together, that I am so much better for her than Hyle..."

"Perhaps you can," interrupted Aemon, his tone dreamy, "but from everything you have told me about Brienne, I sense that she is fearful of starting something with you..."

Jaime's eyes went very wide. " _Fearful?_ What has she got to be scared of? I love her and I have told her that so many times. I would give up everything for her if she would just let me..."

" _That_ is what she is scared of," interjected Aemon gently, even as his eyes seemed to be searing into Jaime's soul. "That you feel you need to sacrifice yourself to be worthy of her love, to give everything for those you adore. From everything you told me, it seems clear that Brienne watched you do all those things for Cersei, and now is a little lost that you seem to have done a total 180 and are now throwing everything on her." Letting out a huff of objecting laughter, Jaime attempted to tell Aemon that he was wrong, but his therapist just continued. "And although I do not know how Brienne feels, if you told her you loved her just after your fight with your brother, I can see how she may be distrustful of that. It is probably quite a lot for her to deal with. You are a rich and attractive man who went from insisting you were just her friend to burning with passion and offering to sacrifice the foundations of your life for her, and even offering her the chance to be your daughter's mother. Don't you see how that could be a little... intimidating?"

Goggle-eyed, Jaime could not help but splutter at Aemon's slightly critical description of his attempts at seducing Brienne. "But I was being _romantic_ because she's my soulmate! How am I meant to show her I love her other than sacrificing myself for her?"

At all these sessions, Aemon usually wore a sympathetic expression, but at that statement it turned firmer. "That is not love, Jaime. That is toxic. If Brienne loves you, all she will require from you is your time, your company, and the pleasure of being with you. Nothing more."

Even though Aemon seemed pretty sincere in that assessment of what love was, it made Jaime snort with laughter. "Come on, Aemon. Be serious."

"I _am_ being serious," replied Aemon, furrowing his brow. "Why do you think I am not being serious?"

The answer came without so much as a second thought. "Because why would anyone love me unless I did anything for them, or gave them money? I have to _do_ something for her to make up for the fact that all this love comes from me!"

_Oh._

That statement rang through the air, heaving and meaningful. Jaime gulped nervously. He had not even been aware he felt that dark emotion, not at least until he vocalised it. Looking at Aemon for answers, Jaime said, "that's bad, isn't it?"

"That's something we can work on," replied Aemon, giving him yet another one of his easy consoling smiles, "but for us to do so, you really have to work out what you want from your life. You said that losing Tyrion now seems pointless if you cannot have Brienne after breaking from Cersei, but as things stand, that is exactly what is going to happen. If you break up with Cersei, Brienne is not going to be waiting there to run into your arms, so you have to want to do it for _you._ This decision is going to have a big impact on your life, so it should not be one taken in haste or impulsively. This goes just beyond yourself; it involves your father, your brother, Cersei, Brienne, your _daughter._ You have time to think about what you really want. Do you want to essentially live a facade in order to make things easier for your daughter and keep in contact with your father? Or do you want to cut yourself off from these influences and strike out on your own, even if you negatively affect your daughter, your relationship with your family, and your finances?"

Jaime opened and closed his mouth for a few moments, not sure what to say. "Do you think there is a right answer?" he eventually asked, watching Aemon closely for any signs of what the correct thing to do would be.

Aemon let out an amused chuckle. "If I were you, I know what I would do, but I am not you. Living in the world is about balancing your own needs against those of other people, and therefore this is a decision that is going to take real consideration. I am only too happy to talk this through with you."

"Yes, that would be great," replied Jaime honestly, glad there was someone he could unload all this pain onto. "I only ever talk to Brienne, and I know that she should not have to deal with all my bullshit."

At that statement, Aemon smiled at Jaime sympathetically. "Well then? Where shall we start?"

 _What about how do I think about this seriously,_ Jaime wondered, _when all I can think of is Brienne?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! As ever, I love to hear what you think in the form of comments or kudos :)


	33. Part XXXIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne goes to Hyle's frat party...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I think everyone has kinda been waiting for this one, so I hope you enjoy! The frat party and the aftermath will be set over a few chapters, so it definitely does not end here. Thanks for reading!

In the safety of her bedroom, Brienne tried to give Sansa a little twirl in the blue dress that she had just purchased specially for Hyle's frat reunion. It was difficult, because there was a lot of heavy material to contend with, but she felt as if she were floating on air, so it did not seem too hard a task.

"You. Look. Hawt," grinned Sansa, as excited as if it were she who was dressing up and going to a party.

Even though she thought her friend was being overly effusive, Brienne could not help but blush. "You sure?"

"Positive," beamed Sansa, getting out her phone to take a quick picture. "The colour, the lace... they just make your eyes pop. The blue really suits you."

"You think?" asked Brienne, a bubble of warmth blooming in her chest.

"Err... _yes!"_ replied Sansa enthusiastically, as she took a picture of Brienne, the camera flashing in the dimly lit bedroom. After Brienne came up with a few duck-faced poses for the photos, she could not help but grin, because for the first time in her life she felt passable. Not pretty. Not beautiful. _Passable._ That Sansa was just hamming her compliments up was all par for the course - she was her friend, after all - because Brienne could never be a true knockout.

She was more than happy with passable, though. Brienne knew it was futile to dream of anything more.

"Do you think Hyle will like it?" asked Brienne, smoothing the long skirt down over her thighs in her nervousness when she eventually came to a standstill.

Ever since they had first met at _The Iron Gate,_ things had been so casual between her and Hyle. In the beginning, Brienne had appreciated that, as it had meant she could keep back his roaming hands and demands for more. She had wanted commitment, she thought, before she went any further. Unfortunately, now he was taking her to a swanky party, Brienne had felt obliged to agreed to a bit more - a hand job was the least Hyle should expect from his sort of girlfriend - even if the mechanical motions made her feel a little virginal and nervous as she performed them.

At Brienne's question about whether Hyle would like the dress, Sansa made a little dismissive sound at the back of her throat. "Who cares about Hyle? What will _Jaime_ think about it, is what you should be asking!"

Brienne bit her lip nervously. Ever since she had started going out with Hyle, Sansa had made it very clear she thought she could do better. Brienne had lost count how many times Sansa had told her that _Jaime is totally into you and you should do something about it._ Given the relentless pestering, Brienne had made herself a silent promise that she would never tell Sansa that Jaime had recently repeated that he loved her. It was mostly that she would never hear the end of it otherwise, because Sansa would have adored the way Jaime had made his declaration while stroking Brienne's hair. However there was also a smaller but much more fearful part of Brienne that just feared that if she vocalised that treasured memory, it would just shatter into a thousand pieces and turn out to be a lie.

Lost to the reminiscence of Jaime's fingers entangled in her hair, it took Brienne a few moments to realise that Sansa was smiling mischievously and tapping away on her phone.

"Sansa, what are you doing?"

Her friend raised an eyebrow at her. " _Nothing."_

"Sansa," repeated Brienne warningly, "what are you doing?"

After letting out a little giggle, Sansa pressed her phone screen somewhat melodramatically. "Just sending a message, that's all."

"To who?" asked Brienne, her fear at the suspected answer rising in her chest.

Sansa's amused smile turned into a smirk. "Hi Jaime, what do you think of how Brienne's dress? Attached picture. Sent!"

Brienne's mouth fell open in horror. "You _didn't!"_

"I did!" laughed Sansa, lunging back as Brienne aimed a playful smack in her direction. "Because don't you want to get him drooling? When you eventually decide that this Hyle thing is a total waste of time and get it on with your soulmate, you want him to be all hot, bothered, and awestruck, don't you?"

"That's just ridiculous..."

"Oooooh!" interrupted Sansa gleefully, her smile growing wider with every second she stared at the phone. "Jaime has responded."

"Has he?" asked Brienne, leaping forward to try and get a look at the screen. At Brienne's eager expression, Sansa let out another knowing chuckle before holding out her phone, allowing her to see what Jaime had typed.

 _Jaime:_ <3 Tell her she looks so beautiful that I have saved this photo as my new screensaver. And also tell her I hope she has an amazing time xxx

"See," said Sansa smugly, as Brienne went a deep red. "He digs it."

 _He doesn't dig it,_ thought Brienne, _he loves me._

But then she remembered.

_But it won't last for long. When he has his life sorted out, and once again sees me for what I really am, that love will disappear._

_Because in what world could Jaime Lannister ever really love me?_

* * *

Sansa snuck out Brienne's flat before Hyle and his frat buddies turned up in a tiny taxi that Brienne found it difficult to squeeze into, what with her dress, the high heels, and the fact that all three guys were man-spreading. In spite of this awkward beginning, Brienne still wanted to please Hyle, so she did her best to smile when he planted a quick kiss on her cheek and then gestured to the others in the car.

"Brienne, this is Ed Ambrose, he is one of my frat bros, " he began, pointing to a scrawny looking guy with buck teeth, before turning to a balding man who was a little portly. "As is Ben Bushey, that dude there. We go way back."

Sitting this close to them, it was clear from the stench that both men had been drinking for some time. Nevertheless, because she wanted to make a good impression, Brienne gave them both a timid smile. She was expecting something similar in return, but both Ed and Ben just grinned at her as if they had told an in-joke that she could never understand the punchline for.

Apparently not sensing anything was off, Hyle gestured to the two other women in the car. "And this is Penny, she's Ed's date, and Jenny is with Ben."

On turning her attention to them, Brienne found it a little difficult to keep her fake smile plastered on, as they were the two women in the entire world that she felt were least likely to come to a frat reunion other than herself. Jenny had a cloud of crazy, wispy hair that she seemed to like wearing in a tangle of knots, and mad staring eyes to match. Penny looked more normal, but she was a dwarf, so looked quite strange sitting next to the tall Ed. "It's a pleasure to meet you," said Brienne, holding out her hand for Jenny to shake. Unfortunately, the girl seemed away with the fairies, muttering something about burning a house down for dragon eggs. For a moment, Brienne was suspended in the middle of an awkward social blunder, until Penny took over.

"It is lovely to meet you Brienne," Penny said, saving the day by shaking her hand. When she finally let go, Penny's eyes dropped to Brienne's belly confusedly, before she looked back up at her. "How long have you known Hyle?"

Given that Hyle had now turned to Ben and was talking to him about football, Brienne felt at liberty to discuss things further with the fellow occupant of the car. "A few months, but don't worry... Hyle's not the father. I am being paid to act as a surrogate..."

Even though Penny's expression indicated she was curious about this topic of conversation, Ed cut across her with a spluttering laugh. "You got paid to be a surrogate? Who would pay _you_ to be a surrogate?"

Brienne had to bite down on her tongue to keep her temper. She was not stupid, she could tell there was something cruel under Ed's words, but she wanted to keep the peace, even though Hyle seemed to be purposefully ignoring the situation. Consequently, when she spoke, her tone was quite cool. "Actually, it is Cersei Marbrand and Jaime Lannister."

At her confession, Ben and Hyle stopped talking, and Ed turned to face Brienne, his expression suddenly incredulous. "Are you trying to tell me you have met Cersei Marbrand?"

 _And Jaime Lannister,_ thought Brienne. _He is the more interesting one._

Brienne shrugged. "Yeah. Loads of times."

"Lucky you," he laughed, even though there seemed to be something approaching hunger in his smile. "What I wouldn't give to blow my load in her."

At that ungallant suggestion, the conversation then turned into a loud discussion about what a banging body Cersei Marbrand had, and that Jaime was lucky to be nailing that piece of ass every week. Although she did not like Cersei, Brienne still felt the frat boy's cackling about her tits an undignified spectacle, so felt herself momentarily withdrawing from the little social bubble she had begun to spin with Penny in favour of gazing out the window as the city lights streaked by.

 _Cersei is more than a body,_ she thought angrily. _Inside, there is nothing good there._

 _Cersei hits him and abuses him,_ she wanted to say.

_She doesn't see how wonderful he is._

_If anyone is lucky to have anyone else, Cersei is lucky to have Jaime, and she is not fit to lick his boots._

Brienne remained detached until the taxi finally pulled up at the Valyria Frat House, which was already practically humming with the sound of very loud music coming from inside.

"Get out," ordered Hyle gruffly. "We are here."

When he gave her shoulder a little shove, Brienne tried her best to get out of the taxi as quickly as she could, even though it was difficult with the baby bump. Once she was out in the early evening light, Brienne tried to compose herself. After a lifetime of being a wilting wallflower in the face of social engagements, the vast looming frat house seemed quite terrifying. Wanting some support, she reached out for Hyle, looping his arm with his. As nervous butterflies were dancing in her belly, she wanted him to say something reassuring, but found he was busy trading jokes with Ed and Ben.

She did not get to voice her main worry until they were up the top of the stairs leading to the frat house, her fingers tight on his arm. "Hyle?"

"Mmm?"

"Do you think I look nice?"

There was a momentary pause as Hyle turned away from the front door to look at her, raking his eyes up and down her as he did so, clearly evaluating what was in front of him. Brienne was hoping for something positive. After all, they were sort of boyfriend and girlfriend.

However, she was soon disappointed.

"Yeah," shrugged Hyle nonchalantly, as if he had not really paid any attention up to that point to what she looked like. "You look okay."

Brienne's stomach sank.

 _Okay,_ she thought, her insides congealing nastily. _That is not even good enough to be passable._

_Jaime said I looked beautiful._

* * *

The frat party was not particularly Brienne's scene but, considering she wanted to make Hyle happy, she tried her best to fit in. At first, that meant just trailing Hyle around, getting him drinks, laughing at his jokes, and agreeing with his reminiscences about their relationship.

"Oh yes, we had a great time at that football game..."

"Yes, you were a real knight in shining armour. You saved me from that terrible date..."

"Mmmm... yep... mmmm..."

Eventually, the placidly-agreeing strategy ran its course, as Hyle shucked her off in favour of going to play beer pong with the boys. As she did not fancy getting splashed with beer and listening to almost middle-aged former frat boys screaming in her ear, in his absence, Brienne found herself attached to Penny. Although the two did not have much in common, Penny looked equally uncomfortable at being at a rowdy frat reunion, so they found some things to talk about to pass the time.

"My brother owns a pig farm out in the Westerlands..."

"... my dad lives out on Tarth."

"I came to King's Landing to be an actress..."

"... I am currently doing a PhD."

They were just getting into the links between acting and psychology - both needed a deep understanding of the human mind - when an out of his mind drunk frat boy came staggering across towards them and tried to vomit in the decorative bowl lying at the centre of the nearby coffee table. However, because he was completely smashed, some of his vomit splattered on Brienne shoes, causing many people around them to loudly let their disgust be known.

 _From passable to gross,_ thought Brienne sadly, as she looked down at her ruined shoes.

"Soz..." slurred the frat boy, vomit in his beard. Once he had staggered away, Penny to jump to a nearby box of tissues and get a handful out for Brienne. The two of them then tried to remove the slime from her shoes.

She gave Penny a weary smile. "Thank you, but I think I am going to have to go to the bathroom to clean them up." Luck seldom came to Brienne Tarth, and it evidently was not going to at a stupid frat party, no matter how much she wanted it to.

 _Where even is Hyle?_ Brienne wondered. _Surely, he wants to spend some time with me. Especially as I can't drink and hardly know anyone._

After leaving Penny, Brienne made her way to the bathroom, and spent a good minute scrubbing sick off her shoes. With every passing second, she became more and more convinced that coming to the party had been a terrible, terrible mistake. She was pregnant, after all! Why had Hyle brought her, especially when he had been so inattentive all evening?

Unfortunately, Brienne soon got her answer. Once her shoes were clean and back on her feet, Brienne went to make her way back to the entrance hall, where most of the party was happening. However, she did not make it all the way there, as she stopped just as she was journeying past the open glass doors that led to the garden when she heard her name being mentioned from the outside veranda.

"...I did not know he would bring someone like _Brienne."_

Taking a few steps back so she was in the shadows, Brienne hovered by the door so she could peer out into the moonlit space. Squinting slightly, the silver light allowed her to recognise the man who had spoken. It was Ben Bushy, Hyle's frat brother. Beside him was Ed Ambrose, Hyle's other old friend, and the two of them were drinking yet more beer. Brienne was surprised that neither of them had yet been killed by alcohol poisoning.

"I thought I had it in the bag with that dwarf," sniggered Ed, picking up the thread of the conversation, "but apparently Hyle had to go one further and bring a literal ogress to the party... and a _pregnant_ ogress at that."

Ben chuckled darkly in agreement. "Oh gods, yes. At least Penny is kinda cute when you squint... Brienne is just a _beast."_

As the two men continued to laugh, Brienne stomach fell through the floor, leaving her feeling strangely empty. She was no idiot, she could tell they were making fun of her, but behind their words was a question that had the power to hurt her much more deeply than some stupid comments by drunken frat boys. What exactly did Hyle _go one further_ at?

"The poor guy is still working that shitty job at _The Iron Gate,_ though," conceded Ed. "In his position, who wouldn't bring an absolute troll to the frat reunion in order to win two hundred dragons?"

"Hyle, that's who. He never had any shame. He was the first one to try jumping from the frat house roof onto the trampoline when we were young and stupid, remember? Of course he would leap at the chance to sign up to a bet to see who could bring the ugliest chick to the frat reunion. It is just who he is." At that statement, the emptiness at the centre of Brienne's soul was replaced by a rush of freezing cold. Had this all been a set up, right from the beginning? Had Hyle not truly saved her from Tormund but instead pulled her into a much larger game of mockery and deceit? Was any of it real at all?

Feeling quite sick, Brienne just about managed to avoid getting even more sick on her shoes (this time her own) before deciding that flight over fight was the best option in this situation. Abandoning her attempt to get back to the party, Brienne turned her heel and ran as fast as she could, her dress billowing behind her as she went.

 _It was a bet,_ she screamed inwardly. _This whole time we've been together has been a joke! That's why he wanted to turn the lights off! He couldn't bear to look at my face... because I am so ugly..._

_A beastly ogress..._

By the time she got outside, overwhelmed by the cold night air, tears started to well in her eyes.

 _Of course,_ she thought, sniffing as she wiped them away with the back of her hand. _No one could really want me. I am a tall, ugly, manly freak at the best of times, and now I'm a tall, ugly, manly_ pregnant _freak._

 _I've been so foolish. So_ so _foolish._

Getting her phone out, Brienne tried to think who best to call. When she had been bullied at school, her father had always told her that _words were wind_ and things would always get better. Part of her wanted to go home, to him, and be a child who could be comforted with sweet platitudes again. Perhaps the harsh world of King's Landing was too much for her. However, if she did that, Brienne would only be proving what a disappointment she was as a daughter, as it would advertise in her inability to find a boyfriend and therefore the lack of any hope of giving her father grandchildren.

 _I am already pathetic enough,_ she thought.

Another more sensible part of her wanted to call Sansa. Her best friend would come fully armed with anger, chocolate, and consoling words that would enable Brienne to start to feel better. However, Brienne almost felt ashamed of asking Sansa for help. Her beautiful best friend lived in a charmed world of men being kind to her because she was gorgeous. If she had to approach Sansa to tell her that she had been mocked on one of the only nights when she had felt passable... well... it was too much.

And, anyway, there was only one person she wanted to call, because right now she felt she could do with his arms around her.

"Hey wench, are you having a good time?" came his voice from the other end of the line, after he had barely waited for the phone to ring.

Brienne, who was used to corseting her feelings in so tightly that she could barely breath, wanted to sound jovial. Instead, at Jaime's upbeat tone, she burst into wracked sobs. "Jaime..." she spluttered, barely able to keep her emotions in check.

"What is the matter?" asked Jaime, his voice desperately searching as Brienne started to cry.

"It was all a bet," she sobbed, the tears rolling down her cheeks. "Hyle and his frat buddies all had a bet going to see who could bring the biggest freak to the frat party... and Hyle won."

She was crying so hard that she barely heard Jaime's next words, delivered in a venomous growl. "He did what?"

"Made a bet," she sniffled, valiantly failing at keeping her composure. "The whole relationship was a joke. Can you come and get me? I don't want to be here anymore."

There was the sound of something getting knocked over as she heard Jaime scramble to his feet on the other end of the line. "That complete _bastard,_ Brienne! Gods, of course I will come and get you! Just make sure you are somewhere safe; I don't want you out in the cold and dark all upset."

"I don't want to go back in there," confessed Brienne heavily, panicking at the thought of having to face Hyle again back in the frat house in the search for somewhere to hang out for five minutes.

"I'll be quick as I can, don't worry, so just get yourself somewhere warm" said Jaime firmly, "and don't let that bastard get you down."

"Okay," replied Brienne meekly, the tone of her voice betraying that she felt that was not possible.

Sensing her disillusionment, Jaime went to counter that belief in a heartbeat. "No, listen to me Brienne. Don't let him upset you. You looked so fucking beautiful tonight that I've been thinking about you in that dress all evening, so please don't let Hyle and his stupid friends make you feel bad. You look so beautiful... so _sexy._ You are worth a thousand of him, a hundred thousand of him, a million of him. So please don't cry over that twat. Just get in the warm, and I'll be with you as soon as I can."

Even though she was still crying as she hung up on Jaime, a spark of tender feeling ignited in her chest.

 _Jaime thinks I am beautiful,_ she thought in wonderment, hoping that he was telling her the truth and not just trying to make her feel better.

_Jaime thinks I am beautiful, and he is coming to get me._

It was enough to calm her down and lessen her tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh, I love comments and kudos! They keep me young and beautiful!


	34. Part XXXIV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne thinks on what she has learnt about Hyle at the frat party...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I hope you enjoy this chapter. There is a lot going on. As ever, I would love to hear what you think in the form of comments or kudos :)

_Jaime thinks I am beautiful,_ Brienne repeated to herself, as it started to spit with rain.

Then she saw their faces. Hyle. Ed. Ben. Mocking. Laughing.

 _Jaime thinks I am beautiful, even if he is wrong,_ she thought, the tears coming.

Even though Brienne had tried to look pretty for him, Hyle was clearly in agreement with Ed and Ben. She was ugly, and because of that deserved to be teased and tormented. When Hyle had first approached her at _The Iron Gate,_ Brienne had thought his intentions were true. Sure, he always turned the light off and was not the most considerate, but she put that down to the fact that Hyle was a guy, and she could not expect him to be fully engaged with someone who looked like her.

Yet she had never anticipated _this._

 _Jaime thinks I am beautiful,_ she told herself. _Even if it is a lie._

Eventually, the wind began to pick up to such an extent that Brienne had no choice put to go back into the frat house to wait for Jaime. Pulling her clutch bag close to her chest as a kind of primitive protection, she trudged back inside, determined to keep the tears at bay.

_Even if Hyle is right, I won't let him see me cry._

Ignoring the raucous noises of the party, Brienne stood in the little entrance corridor of the Valyria frat house, determinedly checking her phone every few seconds for any updates from Jaime.

 _Jaime:_ I'm getting in my car now. Don't worry, sweetling, I'll be there soon xxx

 _Jaime:_ There is traffic, but I am coming as quick as I can. Don't be upset for a second! You are so beautiful that every time I see you, I have stars in my eyes xxx

 _Jaime:_ Still traffic, but I am coming. I promise <3

Although Jaime's words were really sweet, Brienne knew he was just trying to make her feel better. This was a man who had been with Cersei Marbrand, after all, and spent his days photographing the most beautiful people in the world.

 _How can he honestly think I am beautiful?_ she asked herself, catching sight of her reflection in the ornate antique mirror hanging on the wall. _How can he see beauty in_ this? _The pregnant ugly freak._

Quite suddenly, Brienne did not want to see Jaime. It was pathetic enough that she clung onto him while he was vulnerable and needed help after his break-up. That she would inflict herself on him when she was hurting was almost unforgiveable.

 _Why would he want you?_ she spat at herself. _You ugly giant. You ugly_ unlovable _giant. Even Hyle doesn't want you, so why the hell would Jaime Lannister?_

Brienne did not realise she was sniffling until she felt someone pulling at her dress. Looking down, she was surprised to see Penny, another refugee from the frat party, gazing up at her with concern in her eyes.

"Brienne, what is the matter?" she asked, blinking nervously.

Given that Penny was stuck in this situation just as she was, Brienne had wanted to make sure to deliver the news as kindly as she could. However, as she was upset herself, it all came out in a jumble of words, suppressed tears, and anger. "It was a bet, Penny."

Penny furrowed her brow confusedly. "What was a bet?"

"Hyle, Ben, and Ed asking us here tonight. I overheard Ben and Edd talking; they were all taking part in some dogfighting bet... see who could bring the ugliest person date to the frat party. They would win two hundred dragons."

At Brienne's confession, Penny went very white. "But... but... Ed _likes_ me. He said so himself..."

Penny was staring at her with such incredulity that Brienne felt a spike of sympathy in her chest. "I'm sorry... but I heard them talking. They called us freaks. That's the only reason why we are here... so they could _laugh at us."_

Quite against Brienne's will, a tear broke for freedom and went racing down her cheek. She wiped it away with an angry hand. In the time she did so, Penny had moved from shock to a type of blank-faced acceptance. Perhaps she was used to this kind of casual cruelty; no doubt she knew what she was too, just as Brienne did.

"Where is Jenny?" asked Penny. "We should go tell her."

Brienne shrugged, barely able to focus at that moment. "I think I saw her dancing in the kitchen a little while ago. Maybe she is still there."

Penny nodded. "I will go get her then. Are you staying here?"

"I've called someone to pick me up," said Brienne, folding her arms across her chest. "I don't want him to be worried."

In truth, once Jaime arrived, Brienne wanted to get out of the frat house as quickly as possible. It was mostly because she felt so ashamed of herself, that she had allowed herself to think for one shining moment to think of herself than anything other than the horror she was.

Penny considered Brienne's statement. "Okay. I'll go find Jenny and then arrange a way to get us out of here too."

"It sounds a plan," mumbled Brienne, giving Penny a weak smile. She would have hoped she could be braver, stronger, but it turned out that being confronted with her own ugliness was almost too much.

It was therefore Penny who pulled her out of her stupor. Putting one gentle hand on Brienne's arm, she smiled up at her. "So what if we are freaks, if we are ugly," she said, her voice gentle. "It does not give them a right to laugh at us, nor does it mean we should be unhappy. There are worst things in the world than being ugly."

At that statement, Brienne turned to look at Penny, who she found was giving her a knowing smile. After squeezing her arm gently, she withdrew and said, "right, I am going to find Jenny. Thank you for telling me, Brienne."

Brienne wanted to say something in response, but Penny had just said something so earth-shattering that she could barely find the words. _There are worst things in the world than being ugly._ Brienne could not believe it. During her life, it had been made clear to her over and over again that the greatest crime she had committed was being the owner of a hideous face. So how could Penny brush it aside all so casually?

She never had the chance to ask her, however, as Penny went off to find Jenny. Consequently, Brienne found herself alone in the hallway, trying to breathe deeply.

_Penny cannot be serious, can she?_

_I am ugly. How can I ever forget that?_

_It is the thing that makes other people hate me._

Dwelling on that point, Brienne did not know how much time passed before the door behind her swung open. She thought it was most probably Penny and Jenny, so Brienne turned to look at them.

Unfortunately, it was Hyle.

"Hey Brienne, what are you doing out here?" he asked, as if absolutely nothing had happened. "The party is still going on outside."

That he spoke to her with such little care made Brienne see red, so she had to bite back her words in order to not explode at him. "I don't care. I am leaving. Jaime is coming to pick me up."

At that confession, Hyle looked at her confusedly. "Why?"

"Because I know about the bet, Hyle!" she thundered, turning around to face him with tears in her eyes. "I heard your stupid frat bros talking. I know that the three of you brought me, Penny, and Jenny here so you could laugh at us, and win two hundred dragons. And I also _know_ you won."

Part of her had expected Hyle to confirm it all with a malicious joke and a cruel laugh, so Brienne was quite surprised when Hyle went white as a sheet and made a contrite step towards her. "Brienne, I am sorry. I didn't mean..."

"You didn't mean what?" she snapped, her blood boiling. "Picking me at _The Iron Gate_ because I am an ugly freak? Making money from me? Letting me believe you liked me while planning this all along?"

"I _do_ like you," said Hyle, trying to take her hand. Brienne just slapped him away.

"No you don't! How can you say that?" she asked, her voice getting louder with every word. "From the moment we met, everything has been leading to this; you treating me like a great big joke in front of all your frat brothers. If you liked me you wouldn't have brought me here. You wouldn't have brought me here to be mocked."

"I didn't want you to find out..." began Hyle, trying to justify himself. "I kept it a secret so you wouldn't get hurt."

Brienne let out a disgusted little huff. "Wouldn't get hurt? If you did not want to hurt me, Hyle, you would treat me with _respect_ , not like a great ugly thing you can make money off. You know, I am not even with Jaime, and every day he treats me better than you do. He's kind to me when there's nothing in it for him. He looks after me. He..."

At the mention of Jaime, Hyle's expression went from one of contrition to annoyance. "Oh yes, here we go! Jaime Lannister. The guy who is using you as a human incubator for his rich girlfriend. _That_ Jaime Lannister! He's not being _kind;_ he's using you for everything he can get."

"Jaime _is_ kind!" thundered Brienne, now properly angry. "You were the one using me Hyle. _You!"_

"I needed the money," he objected weakly. "I thought if I could get it without you knowing about the bet, we could continue to be together..."

Brienne almost laughed at that summation. "Are you serious? Why would I want to be with a liar? Why would I...?" Just then, Hyle made a grab for her arm and she tried to shake him off. "Get off me!"

"No, Brienne, just listen!"

"I don't want to listen! I don't want--"

"We can be happy, you and me, if you just get over that stupid notion that Jaime Lannister is anything other than a rich vampire who wants to suck out of you everything he can!"

Trying not to go red at the thought of Jaime _sucking_ her, Brienne pushed back against Hyle's argument. "This isn't about Jaime, this is about _you,_ Hyle, and how you've been trying to trick me right from the start!"

Hyle's grip tightened on her arm. "Brienne, if you would just _listen_ to me."

"I don't want to!" she yelled. "Get off me!"

"No!"

"Get off me!"

"No!"

"GET OFF HER, YOU BASTARD!"

It took a few seconds for Brienne to realise what was happening as Hyle went flying across the little hallway, nearly cracking his head on the mirror. Jaime had come out of nowhere, and was now seizing Hyle by the collar, staring at him with wild, mad eyes. "You _bastard,"_ he spat furiously, shaking Hyle as he did so. "How _dare_ you do that to her? How _dare_ you? You are not even fit to lick her boots and you make a bet on her. Who do you think you are?"

If Brienne had thought that Hyle would retreat at Jaime's aggressive tone, she was disappointed, as he recovered himself and shoved his opponent away from him.

"Who do you think _you_ are?" crowed Hyle in response. "Just because your daddy is rich and you are banging a crazy celebrity, you think you can look down on me, like I am beneath you!"

Jaime's lips curled into a snarl. "I do look down on you, you arsehole, because you treat Brienne badly when she deserves so much better."

"And you think you could give her that, do you?" laughed Hyle mockingly. "I see the way you look at her, man. It's quite pathetic."

Even though Brienne thought Hyle must be joking, Jaime went a furious red. "Fuck you!" he thundered, pumping himself up to his full height.

It only made Hyle laugh harder. "I think you want to fuck _her_."

What happened next went by in a flash. Jaime lifted his fist and slammed it into Hyle's jaw, causing the man to fall back once more. "Call her by her name!" Jaime shouted. "Call her Brienne!"

If Brienne had thought that would be the end of it, she was wrong, as in a moment Hyle was back up on his feet, launching himself at Jaime like a rocket. With a slightly misdirected swing on Hyle's part, it then broke out into an all-out brawl, which summoned drunken partygoers from the next room to cheer it on.

"FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!"

For a few moments, Brienne watched with a mounting sense of powerlessness as the two men went for each other, shouting profanities while trying to rip great chunks out of each other. However, when Hyle went for Jaime's eyes with his thumbs - his perfect green eyes - Brienne felt she had no choice but to intervene.

"Get off him, Hyle!" Brienne shouted, trying to get in between him and Jaime. "You're going to hurt him!"

"He started it!" bellowed Hyle, trying to get a punch over her shoulder.

"Move back, wench," instructed Jaime firmly, positioning his arm between her and Hyle in order to protect her. "You are pregnant."

She was not going to let him push her back with that argument. "If you don't stop this stupid fight right now, I will start punching people, and I _promise_ you I will win."

Perhaps slightly terrified of the giant blond, both Hyle and Jaime stopped wrestling at once. Hyle was biting his lip nervously, while Jaime just looked smugly satisfied. For a strange moment, Brienne wondered if he was proud of her.

"Brienne," began Hyle, his voice hoarse. "We need to talk about this. I am sorry. I did not mean to upset you..."

Having heard nothing so pathetic in all her life, Brienne shook her head firmly. "I don't want to talk to you, Hyle. I don't want to see you. I don't care what you have to say. It's over."

The crowd of onlookers started making _ooooooooooh!_ noises at that, even as Jaime took Brienne's hand in his and started gently pulling her towards the door. "Don't try to contact her," Jaime said firmly, giving Hyle a condescending look, "or this time I really will kick your head in."

When Brienne turned her back on Hyle, he must have realised he was well and truly beaten, as he made no more attempt to catch her attention. Consequently, Brienne let Jaime pull her towards the door, trying to ignore the overjoyed smile on his handsome face.

Once they had left the frat house, they marched down the road together, her hand firmly in Jaime's, his eyes bright in a strange mix of anger and purpose. She knew she should be annoyed with him for starting a fight to defend her honour, but strangely she felt she could not. Instead, that he was so devoted just made her want to follow him, even if she did not feel like she deserved him touching her so gently.

"You don't have to hold my hand," said Brienne sadly, trying to pull away from him. "You have already done enough. You don't have to be nice to me to make me feel better."

Jaime let out a huff of annoyance at that statement. "How about I want to hold your hand, wench? Has that thought ever crossed your mind?"

Brienne began to blush at that comment, even as she prepared her objections. He wasn't thinking straight. He couldn't be thinking straight. "Jaime, I know you keep saying you love me, but you've got to be serious. You are _Jaime Lannister._ Rich. Handsome. Famous. You had a relationship with Cersei Marbrand, the most beautiful woman in the world and I... I am nothing."

At that statement, Jaime pulled her close and wrapped an arm around her waist. "Shut up, you are not nothing."

"Of course I am," she replied, gazing at him confusedly. "I am a penniless PhD student spending all my money on my ill father. I have few friends, and the ones I do have all have better options than me. I barely have any sexual experience, because who would want to go out with someone that looks like me?"

"Brienne..."

The tears were back, rolling down her cheeks before she could stop them. "I'm tall, ugly, and masculine, and I don't have the personality to make up for it. I went out with Hyle because I knew it was one of the few chances I might get, and even then he was well out of my league."

The expression Jaime wore suggested he thought she was crazy. "Don't be ridiculous, Brienne."

"I'm not," she sobbed in response. "I _am_ ugly Jaime, and at least three men were happy to agree on that idea."

"Well, they're just idiots," said Jaime forcefully, pulling her closer, so their sides were pressed tightly together. "Especially Hyle. He doesn't deserve you, because you are a wonderful person and he..."

She shook her head, quite unwilling to listen to Jaime's well intentioned lies. "He doesn't deserve me? Why? Because he sees me for what I really am? I can't expect men to really care about me, Jaime, because I'm nothing special. I'm..."

Clearly quite fed up with her,Jaime pulled her down a nearby alleyway, seemingly wanting to talk to her somewhere privately. With gentle hands, he pushed her back against the wall, and then looked at her with those soul-searching green eyes of his. It made Brienne feel quite faint.

"Don't listen to him for a moment," insisted Jaime, cupping her face with his hands and then bringing her close so he could look into her eyes. "Hyle is a nasty little arsehole, and you are light. You are so much better than him, so don't cry because he's trying to pull you down. And don't believe you are nothing. You are _not_ nothing. Do you know how good you make me feel every time I see you? I get butterflies in my stomach and feel like I want to sing. Whenever I see something funny, I want to show it to you, because I want to hear your laugh. When I am sad, it is you I want to be with. And when I just want to hang out, I want to be with you, because you make me feel better about myself... you make me _want_ to be better. And it is because you are so beautiful, inside and out, upside down and right way up, every way it is possible to look at you. So please do not let that bastard tell you otherwise. Please, Brienne. Listen to me. You _are_ beautiful."

At his declaration, Brienne's mouth opened in surprise as she searched Jaime's face for some sign of insincerity. However, being so close, she could only see a strange kind of devotion. His green eyes were blown, drawing all the light in the little alley in, while his lips seemed so... so...

Before she even thought it through properly, Brienne lifted her hands to Jaime's face, matching him touch for touch. Wanting nothing more than to feel him, Brienne pulled him in for a kiss, carding her fingers through his hair so she could have him close and in her hands. Jaime was clearly surprised, as his mouth dropped open in shock, giving Brienne the space to dart her tongue between his teeth. Having him like this, in the way she had long dreamed, made Brienne's heart race, confirming his words with the feeling of his lips against hers...

_Jaime thinks I am beautiful._

But then he pulled away, and the dream was shattered.

"Jaime..."

She wanted to cry.

"Don't look at me like that, wench," he breathed, his face still close, as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "It's not that I don't want..."

"You don't think I'm beautiful," she said, her words melting into a sob as the tears returned. "How could you? You were with Cersei..."

"Who abused me and mistreated me," Jaime interrupted, his voice low but firm. "You helped me see that. _You_ did. And now you are sad because Hyle was cruel to you. I get that. You want a bit of comfort. That was what I wanted when you and me almost had sex after I found out about Cersei's cheating too."

"It's not the same," she tried to tell him, her voice barely a croak in her throat. However, he did not seem to be listening.

_I love you. I love you. I love you._

"But you don't want me," Jaime said, his eyes soft and a little sad. "We are platonic soulmates, remember? You said so yourself, even though I do not feel the same. And I don't want to take advantage of you when you are feeling down."

Brienne was so moved by that simple statement that she lost sight of him behind her tears. "But you wouldn't be taking advantage of me because I lied, because I love--"

She never got to finish that sentence, however, as just then a voice reverberated down the alleyway; heavy, mocking, and full of malice. It made Jaime jump away from her and look toward the sound.

"Tho, what do we have here?" lisped a man with a greasy goatee, flanked by heavies. When his eyes laid on Jaime, his grin only grew. "Oh. Jaime Lannister. What a prize we have here, boys!"

As the men began to laugh, Brienne's stomach dropped. As she and Jaime had been so wrapped up in one another, they had barely noticed that they had come down a slightly salubrious alley and were now hemmed in by too many people for them to fight.

They were surrounded with no way out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you like it, and would love to hear what you think!


	35. Part XXXV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne are confronted by thugs...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for coming back, guys! This chapter is quite short, but it packs a punch, so I hope you enjoy!

The feel of Brienne's lips on his was almost too sweet for Jaime to cope with. And not only was she kissing him, but she was running her fingers through his hair so gently, it was as if he were made of porcelain. Jaime had never been kissed like this before. Cersei had not cared to make him feel special and often only treated him as a particularly sexy lump of flesh. In contrast, Brienne held him as if she treasured him and it made Jaime's poor heart soar.

It therefore took all the strength he had to pull away and be met by her sad, tear-filled eyes.

"Jaime..."

"Don't look at me like that, wench," he begged, not wanting her to get the wrong idea. "It's not that I don't want..."

However, Brienne seemed determined to imagine the worse. "You don't think I am beautiful," she sobbed, in a way that made Jaime's chest ache. "You don't think I'm beautiful. How could you? You were with Cersei..."

It was such a monstrous misreading of the situation that Jaime found himself snapping back. It was not _him_ that did not want this, but _her._ "Who abused me and mistreated me. You helped me see that. _You_ did. And now you are sad because Hyle was cruel to you. I get that. You want a bit of comfort. That was what I wanted when you and me almost had sex after I found out about Cersei's cheating too."

"It's not the same..." she began, but Jaime cut across her, armed with the truth he had long known.

"But you don't want me. We are platonic soulmates, remember? You said so yourself. And I don't want to take advantage of you when you are feeling down."

At that statement, Brienne's tear filled expression turned soft as she moved slightly closer to him. "But you wouldn't be taking advantage of me because I lied, because I love--"

"Tho, what do we have here?" came a lisping voice, so cold it made a chill run up Jaime's spine. "Oh. Jaime Lannister. What a prize we have here!"

Turning away from Brienne, Jaime took the time to scrutinise the group that were now surrounding them. There weren't many of them - perhaps twelve to fifteen at the most - but enough that it meant Jaime could not fight his way out of this, especially not when he had a pregnant, upset Brienne to protect. The man who had spoken was a short man with a greasy goatee and shifty little eyes that seemed to be permanently evaluating the situation. Around him were his heavies, all men chosen for their size, strength, and undoubtedly the force of their punches rather than the softness of their characters.

At the mention of his name, Jaime squared up to his full height, and took a slight step to the right so he was standing in front of Brienne. "Good evening, gentlemen. How can I help you?"

The grotesque little man with the goatee's smile grew wider at that question. "You can give us all your money, you rich fucker."

The bluntness of it almost made Jaime laugh. "If you want money, it's my father you would have to go after. He's the billionaire."

"But your Daddy ain't here, ith he rich boy?" growled the man, no hint of amusement on his face. "Tho give uth all your money."

Although he could feel Brienne tense and nervous behind him, the fact that Jaime though he himself made a pretty effective human shield for her made him feel cocky. "I haven't got any change. I only have my _Lannex_ card, and I am obviously not going to give you that."

"Why not?" asked a thickset guy standing next to the lisper.

Jaime thought he looked a little Dothraki, so he decided to piss about and use the Dothraki he had learnt in his posh finishing school. " _Fin anha zin asto ajjin yer tikh vo zhorre hoshor_." Although his grammar wasn't great, Jaime thought he was saying that they were not getting any of his money. It seemed to have some effect, as the Dothraki scowled, while the lisper's expression grew dark.

"There ith no time for jokes, Lannister," he snarled, his eyes as sharp as his teeth. "Just give uth your money and then we'll leave you alone."

"I told you, I don't have any money," Jaime replied, without a hint of shame. If there was one good thing that came from being Tywin Lannister's son, it was that no one ever dared to treat him badly.

That rule, however, did not seem to apply to Brienne.

"What about the ugly bitch?" asked the lisper. "What about her?"

Suddenly, to Jaime, nothing about this situation seemed remotely amusing anymore.

"I don't know any ugly bitches, but if you are talking about Brienne, she's not giving you any money either," said Jaime angrily, even as he felt Brienne reach forward and brush his fingers with her own.

_Don't,_ she was trying to say.

However, Jaime could not help it. That this man and his stupid mates were trying to threaten Brienne, when she was pregnant and had already had a really shitty night. It was just too much for Jaime. She didn't deserve this crap; Brienne needed to be taken home and told how special, lovely, and wonderful she was, and then cuddled a lot. Indeed, it was what Jaime was intending to do. However, at that moment, Jaime had to protect her physically, so tried to make himself look big. The aggressive stance that Jaime was taking just succeeded in setting a nasty smile stretching across the lisper's face.

"Oh, I think she is."

Jaime puffed up as tall as he could. "And why is that?"

The lisper grinned at him as he reached into his leather jacket and pulled out a thin little blade, almost white in the moonlight. At his direction, his men followed him, and soon Jaime was faced with the prospect of fifteen knives pointed straight at him. That he was standing in front of Brienne suddenly became very, _very_ important. Unfortunately, she seemed to disagree.

"I have money," she said, opening her clutch bag and pulling out the small purse she had brought with her. "It's only twenty dragons, but it is all I have."

Once she had the money in hand, Brienne went to move around Jaime so she could give the cash to the lisper. However, as he did not want his wench anywhere near that knife, Jaime snatched the money and shoved it into their aggressor's hands. "There. Are you happy now?"

"No," the man responded quickly. "You are a billionaire. You should have more."

Jaime went to answer him, but Brienne got there first. "He told you... his _father_ is the billionaire... Jaime hasn't got any money."

"Ha!" laughed the lisper, taking a step forward. "Like I believe that. You are shagging that Therthei Marbrand; you are bound to have some cash from her, even if you don't have it from your father."

"Jaime told you," said Brienne more firmly, this time successfully side-stepping him so she could talk to the lisper more directly. "He doesn't have any money, so just _leave him alone."_

Perhaps showing her what an animal he was, the lisper snarled at her, his lip in a curl. "And what has it got to do with you, you great ugly bitch? Has he already spent all his money paying you for a late night fuck in an alley, you hideous whore?"

The lisper's men all let out a nasty cackle at that and Brienne flushed red in embarrassment. Insulted for her, Jaime felt as if he was going to combust and went red with a rage that he did not know he truly had the capacity for. "Do you know who I am? I am a Lannister of Casterly Rock! The son of Tywin Lannister, the richest man in all of fucking Westeros. And even then I'm not fit to lick her boots because Brienne Tarth is the best woman who has ever lived, so who are you to insult her?"

Looking around at his men, the lisper let out a gleeful little laugh. "Have you got eyes? She's a fucking giant freak, and I bet it mooth when you fuck it."

His heavies produced another obliging laugh at that, but Jaime barely heard them as he was bearing down on the lisper like a ton of bricks. "Don't you dare talk to her like that! Don't you dare! Because what are you? Some snivelling whoreson who only feels powerful when he is surrounded by bigger men, because he wants to make up for the fact that he has a tiny dick."

Even though Jaime had been trying to make the man angry, he had not quite anticipated what would come next as the man just snapped. "You'll pay for that! I'll gut your whore!" he spat venemously, his eyes shifting to Jaime's Baby Mama. His face red and furious, the lisper suddenly lunged the knife forward in the direction of Brienne. Without even thinking, without even breathing, Jaime leapt to her defence, stretching out across her so she would not be hurt. He was immensely glad he did so as, even though the blade pierced the flesh at the centre of his palm and then impaled his whole hand in one painful swoop, he managed to protect her and turnip.

Which was all he wanted.

"Fuck!" Jaime screamed, as the man with the lisp stepped back, letting go of the knife, leaving it straight in the middle of Jaime's right hand. In any other situation, the sight would almost have been comical; the way the knife was position made it look like a flower blooming from his palm, shining in the light.

It hurt like a bitch though.

"Jaime!" yelled Brienne beside him, her eyes big and beautiful even in her fear.

She was the quickest to cotton onto what had happened, but soon the lisper's men did too, and they looked just as scared as Brienne. "Vargo," shouted the big Dothraki to the lisper, "what the fuck have you done?"

"Come on!" cried Vargo, preparing to flee as Jaime stared down at his ruined hand, screaming at the fact it was now impaled by a knife. The pain was so overwhelming that he dropped to his knees, and then could feel nothing but the all-encompassing pain, and Brienne's hands on his shoulders. Although he could not see her, Jaime could feel Brienne drawing herself around him, shielding him from his attackers.

"Brienne, don't..."

However, there was no need to object to her putting herself in front of him, as at the sight of the blood pouring from his hand, Vargo and his thugs finally seemed to realise than this had gone further than they intended, so like a wave retreating from a shore, they all fled from the scene, leaving Jaime with nothing but the pain and Brienne's arms around him.

Once they had gone, Brienne blanketed him with her body and it was almost enough to make him forget about everything else. "Jaime, you are hurt," she stammered, reaching forward so her fingers gently touched the knife. Although she was trying to be careful, it was enough to make him wince as it set a thrum of pain running up his arm.

"Take it out, wench," he moaned, the agony now the only thing in his world that was real, the only thing that made sense. It seared and burned to such a degree that he almost wanted to scream. "It hurts so much!"

As she cradled him in her arms, Brienne looked down at his hand, which was now gushing blood from the wound, only impeded from totally opening by the knife itself. "I can't Jaime," she said quietly, running a soothing had over his back. "If I pull it out, you will bleed more, and then you could lose too much blood! I'm going to call an ambulance though, do you hear? I'm going to call an ambulance. So you just stay with me. Okay?"

"Stay with you..." he murmured, as Brienne got her phone out and started screaming down it at the poor person from the emergency services who had the misfortune to answer it. "Stay with you..."

"Hello? Hello! I need an ambulance! We were attacked by a group of thugs, and my... my... _Jaime_ has been stabbed in the hand! We are in an alley near the Valyria Frat House. Can you get here as quickly as you can? He's bleeding!"

_I'm bleeding,_ Jaime thought distantly, as Brienne continued to rock him in her strong but gentle arms. As he turned to look at her, he realised she seemed so scared, so frightened, that it almost hurt him more than his hand.

_I'm bleeding, but I'll stay with you, wench._

_I won't leave you. I don't want you to be scared._

_I promise._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As ever, I love to hear what you think in the form of comments and kudos :)


	36. Part XXXVI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Jaime is stabbed, Brienne goes with him to hospital, and is faced with some difficult decisions...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, thanks for coming back. I hope you enjoy this chapter, especially during this time of coronavirus... it's been a fun one to write!

"Stay with me Jaime, okay..."

"It is going to be alright; I promise..."

"Jaime! Jaime! Can you hear me?"

From the moment the knife pierced right through Jaime's hand like something out of a horror film, Brienne felt as if she had lost her mind. Cradling him to her, Brienne had had no idea what to do other than scream down the phone to the emergency services.

"Stay with me," she sobbed, begging Jaime, "stay with me. Please."

When the ambulance finally arrived, Brienne refused to leave him, and stayed grasping his good hand as the paramedics bustled around trying to stem the bleeding and giving him painkillers. In the face of adversity, Brienne had always thought she was stoic, but here, confronted with the sight of Jaime injured in her defence, she was not so sure about that.

"Don't cry, wench," he said, squeezing her hand gently. "I'll be alright. I promise."

Yet she could not help it. All she wanted to do was weep, because there seemed no other appropriate reaction. Jaime Lannister had jumped in front of her and taken a knife for her; what else could she do but cry? It was the most explicit evidence of care and love that anyone had ever shown her, so she was too shocked to do anything else but cry and cry until her tears ran out.

 _Jaime took a knife for me,_ she thought, running her thumb over the bridge of his knuckles.

 _Jaime took a knife for me,_ she wondered, soothingly hushing him when he moaned with pain.

 _Jaime took a knife for me,_ she mused, brushing his hair out of his eyes. _He must really love me._

When they arrived at the hospital, Jaime and Brienne were swiftly separated as he was rushed off to surgery by rather panicked looking nurses. Knowing she did not have much time; Brienne gave him a quick peck on the forehead as he pushed his phone into her hand. "Call everyone who needs to know," he said, just before he was whisked away, leaving Brienne standing in the corridor with nothing but her tears and the weight of what had just happened.

* * *

Eventually, a kindly nurse who introduced himself as Samwell found a stunned Brienne standing in the middle of the corridor and took pity on her. Wanting to help her, Sam accompanied Brienne to a waiting room with a magazine rack and a coffee machine in which she could bide her time.

"What is Jaime in for?" Sam asked gently once she was sat down and he had made her a coffee.

Even though she had tried to retreat to her characteristic stoicism once Jaime had been taken away, at the mention of his name, she found her tears returned. "He was stabbed in the hand trying to protect me from being mugged."

Sam's eyes went very wide. "That was brave of him."

"That's just what he is like," sniffed Brienne, a smile curling at the corners of her lips. "Brave. Kind. Noble. And barely anybody sees it."

Sam furrowed his brow. "What makes you say that?"

Brienne shrugged in a way she hoped looked nonchalant. "Before they rushed him off to surgery, he asked me to call everybody who needed to know he had been hurt... but who should I call? He has fallen out with his brother, from what I can gather his father is... cold and distant at best... and his ex-girlfriend... well, she is more interested in the fairy tale she tells the newspapers that the real life she lives with Jaime."

Sam considered her statement for a moment, before replying. "You should still call them though, shouldn't you? They deserve to know, even if they would not perhaps respond in the way you would want."

Brienne sighed, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. "I know you are right, but I want Jaime to have people who care about him around him, and I am not sure they do."

"They'll care," replied Sam comfortingly. "If there is one thing that I know from this job it is that when things come down to the wire, people always care. And anyway, Jaime is going to be in surgery for a couple of hours at least. Surely you will need someone to take your place on this vigil, eventually?"

Snapping her head around, Brienne looked at Sam as if he had gone mad. "I won't be leaving Jaime, not until I know he is better."

"But he will be in surgery for hours," Sam began to object, but Brienne cut across him.

"I will _not_ be leaving. He needs me," said Brienne firmly, looking down at her over-large hands, hands that would never be good enough to hold Jaime Lannister's. Yet, even so, if he needed her help, Brienne knew she would give it to him wholeheartedly.

There was something in Brienne's tone that clearly told Sam that she was deadly serious, so he gave her a gentle smile. "Well then, why don't you call Jaime's relatives and I will go and find out how long the surgery will be?"

Nodding in thanks, Brienne kept her false smile on her face until Sam left the room. Even though she knew Sam was right, that people other than herself _did_ need to know what had happened, it was still a difficult thing to do. At that moment, Jaime needed love and care and she did not know whether his family could provide it, especially now she knew about the story with Tysha and that Cersei used to hit Jaime as if he were her own private punchbag.

Even so, when she picked up her phone, she started with Tyrion. He would probably be the easiest bet.

"Brienne?" came a slightly groggy voice. It was clear Tyrion had been asleep. "What are you doing calling me this time of night? Is everything alright at the university?"

Horrified that Tyrion had not immediately jumped to ask whether his brother was okay, Brienne almost snapped at him. "It is not the university, it is _Jaime._ He came to pick me up from a party and the two of us were mugged and... they attacked him. They stabbed him through the hand. He's in surgery at the KLU hospital right now, so you need to come down and see him. He needs people who care about him around him."

Knowing Tyrion, Brienne expected to be met by quick acquiescence and an offer to be there as soon as he could, but instead there was only a silence that could have only belonged in an arctic tundra. Eventually, she tried to poke him into answering. "Tyrion?"

"I am not coming," replied Tyrion firmly, his voice strangely monotone.

His response made Brienne gasp. "Why?"

"Because this doesn't change anything," Tyrion growled. "He's still a liar, he still lied to me about Tysha, he still..."

"But he needs you," begged Brienne, tears threatening to break through her words. "I know he's made mistakes in the past..."

"Mistakes!?!?!" barked Tyrion, too harshly and loudly considering how late it was. "A mistake would be being late for a train, or tripping over in the street, not telling me that the only woman who has ever loved me is a whore!"

"Tyrion..."

"Do you know what?" he spat, clearly quite angry. "I don't care what is going on with Jaime. Tysha was attacked too because of what _he_ did, so perhaps this is just karma."

That was such a horrible thing to say that Brienne let out a squawk of indignation. "Tyrion!"

"Karma's a bitch, Brienne, and maybe you should not waste so much time over someone who clearly isn't worth it."

Before Brienne could say another word, either in defence of Jaime's good character or to tell Tyrion that he was behaving much worse than the monster he was dressing his brother up to be, Tyrion hung up the phone, leaving Brienne listening to nothing but the dialling tone.

 _Bastard!_ she thought angrily as she ended the call. _How dare he? Jaime is injured and hurt after doing something stupidly brave, and now he wants to abandon him in his time of need with just me to help him. How could he?_

Given Tyrion's abominable behaviour, it took Brienne a few minutes of silent seething to regain control of her temper once more. As it turned out, Sam was not right; when it came down to the wire, Tyrion did not care about Jaime, and it hurt Brienne so deeply she wanted to scream. In fact, she was almost thankful that Jaime was in surgery, so he did not have to deal with how uncaring the people that were supposed to love him were. Steeling herself, Brienne prepared to make the next call, this time to his father, whom she anticipated would be as hard and flinty as slate.

As she did not have Tywin's number, Brienne had to search for it in Jaime's phone. To her surprise, it was difficult to find, as there were thousands of stored numbers, most of being famous actors, singers, and models he had photographed over his career. Looking at each of them - Margaery Tyrell, Arys Oakheart, Jeyne Westerling - Brienne knew that while they were all glitzy and glamorous, Jaime would never be able to rely on a single one of them in a time of crisis. After much searching, she eventually she found Tywin's number listed under the strangely cold _Father_ and pressed the call button. When it started ringing, a knot of fear started tightening itself in her belly. Tywin Lannister was scary enough by reputation alone; she did not know if she could actually speak to the man. However, that eventuality never materialised as, after several attempts, all she got was the answerphone. Steadying her breath, on the final time, Brienne was prepared when the tone kicked in and she could leave her message.

"Hello Ty- Mr Lannister, this is Brienne Tarth calling... you know, Jaime's..." Surrogate? Baby Mama? " _Friend._ I am sorry to call so late, but when Jaime came to pick me up from a party, the two of us were mugged and he was... stabbed in the hand. He's currently in surgery at the KLU Hospital, but once he has come around, I know that Jaime would really appreciate it if he had some friendly faces around... someone more than me... so if you were able to come... it would make him very happy. Goodnight."

Hanging up, Brienne looked down at Jaime's phone, trying to steady herself once more. Although she knew his father and his brother were perhaps the limits of who she should call, part of her wanted to call Cersei. Not because she thought Jaime would be happy to have her at his bedside, of course, but to stop her. Closing her eyes, Brienne took a deep breath, before starting the search for Cersei's number. Assuming that she was the person saved under _Demon Ex-Girlfriend from Hell,_ Brienne called her, but was only met by the answerphone. Irritated, Brienne instead decided to call Taena, Cersei's PA, whose number Jaime also had on his phone. In contrast to her boss, Taena picked up almost instantly.

"Hello? Jaime? Thank god you've called. Cersei's been losing her shit about the wedding and what we have to organise..."

Brienne had no time for whatever silly plan Cersei had concerning her fake wedding to Jaime, so she silenced Taena quickly. "This is not Jaime. It is Brienne and I've not called about the wedding or any PR related shenanigans. Cersei needs to know that Jaime has been stabbed."

"What...?" Taena said excitably, but Brienne cut across her once more, knowing the PA was probably already planning how to best play this to the watching press.

"Jaime and I were mugged, and, in the process, he was stabbed in the hand. He is in surgery now and he will hopefully be better soon, but Cersei needs to know, just because I don't want her making any big song and dance of this. Jaime will need time to recover, and I don't want her going on the news and making it all about _her_ or marching on down here and making it all about _her,_ either. He needs love and care, not the paparazzi."

To Brienne's surprise, Taena let out a little scoff at that.

"What?" snapped Brienne, irritated she was not taking this seriously.

"You have met Cersei, haven't you?" asked Taena, her tone catty. "If she wants to make something out of Jaime being stabbed, she will. If she wants everyone to believe he _wasn't_ stabbed, she will, as she will if she wants everyone to believe he was stabbed to _defend_ her. That is just how she works. She needs to be on the front page, and if this gets her in the headlines, she'll do it."

Brienne had to bite down a colourful swearword at that statement, as she tried to answer Taena civilly. "Well _tell_ her she can't just use Jaime like that. He's hurting and in pain. He doesn't need all Cersei's bullshit at the moment."

"There's nothing I can do to stop..."

"Try," insisted Brienne firmly, almost growling. "Because I swear, if Cersei hurts him with her celebrity crap right now, I will _not_ be happy, and I'll..."

"What?" asked Taena sceptically, clearly testing the limits of where she was willing to go.

After a few moments of puffing herself up, Brienne eventually gave Taena her answer. "I will never let her near him ever again."

Taena outright laughed at that. "Who do you think you are? Cersei can do whatever--"

Fed up, Brienne hung up, nearly breaking the phone with the force of slamming it down beside her.

 _Jaime doesn't deserve this bullshit,_ she thought angrily. _Not now. He deserves to be surrounded by people who love him, people who care._

_So why have the gods been cruel enough to only give him me?_

* * *

In the end, Brienne was immensely grateful that Sam brought her a blanket, because she spent the rest of the night curled up on a chair in the waiting room, anticipating any news about Jaime. At first, she valiantly tried to stay awake, but the longer her anxiousness burnt, the more tired she got, so at about three o'clock she fell asleep, dreaming and hoping that someone would turn up to see him, someone who could make him feel better about all this.

However, when she woke up, Brienne found that nobody else had joined her, nor had Tywin or Cersei responded to her messages. Indeed, sitting alone in the waiting room, Brienne became aware that she was the only person Jaime truly had in the entire world. It almost broke her heart in two, because he deserved so much more.

"Hey," said the nurse who shook her awake, wearing a name badge that said _Gilly Tarly._ "Are you Brienne?"

"Yes," said Brienne sitting up quickly, wiping her eyes. "What time is it? Is Jaime out of surgery?"

Gilly smiled at her reassuringly. "Yes, Mr Lannister is out of surgery now and you can see him if you want."

Leaping to her feet, Brienne tried to remain calm. "How is he? How did the surgery go? How is his hand?"

"The surgery went well," replied Gilly, smiling gently, "but he will need to be in here for a few days for us to monitor him, and we will be putting him on a physiotherapy programme. You can talk to the doctor soon, but I think it is probably best if you see Mr Lannister now, isn't it?"

Nodding dumbly, Brienne let the friendly nurse lead her down the corridor and up to the room Jaime had been lodged. Quite against her will, Brienne's heart was hammering wildly in her chest. Would Jaime be hurt? Was he in pain? Would he need comforting?

However, she need not have worried, as when Brienne slipped through the door into his room, she found Jaime asleep, his hand wrapped up in a bandage. The sight made her want to cry. He looked so delicate, so vulnerable, and so alone that Brienne could feel the lump blooming in her throat in her sadness. Wanting to stay strong for him, Brienne crossed the room as quietly as she could, then perched on the side of his bed nearest his good hand. Barely able to resist, Brienne lifted her own hand so she could stroke his cheek, as if he were made to porcelain. As she held him, Brienne could not help but feel disgusted with herself. Why were her oversized hands the only kind touch in the world that Jaime ever got? He deserved so much more than this, so much better, yet the universe seemed to be determined to be immensely cruel to him, even when he was unendingly good.

Although she had stolen the feel of his cheek for herself, at her touch, Jaime's eyes fluttered open. Without thinking, Brienne leapt back, not wanting him to think she had been caressing him without his express permission; like a servant holding the priceless china.

"Wench," he said gently, with all the stars in the sky in his eyes. "You're here."

"I am," confirmed Brienne, tearing up once again at his soft expression. It made her want to touch him again, and this time when she reached out for his good hand, he was able to squeeze her fingers in response. Although she knew she was not good enough for him, in the absence of his family, at least she could offer him some of the care he so desperately needed.

Perhaps seeing some of her internal conflict in her eyes, Jaime looked at her concernedly. "Don't cry, wench. Please don't. They've said I'll get movement back in my hand... if I just work at it... if I do my exercises."

Even though his reassurances were delivered in a soft, tender tone, they were not enough for Brienne. "But it should have been me, Jaime," she sniffed, the tears rolling down her cheeks, "he was aiming for me. You should have let him..."

Jaime shook his head, his eyes narrowing in irritation. "As if I would have done that. I couldn't let that bastard hurt you; not you and turnip. You two are... are... you are my _family,_ Brienne. It was better that it was me, better that he hurt me than you..."

It was so ridiculous a statement - that she was somehow worth more than him - that Brienne snorted through her tears. "Don't say that."

"It's true," interjected Jaime quickly, sitting up and then pulling their joined hands into his lap. "You are my family. And I love you so much, surely you know this by now?"

In spite of everything, Brienne did know that Jaime loved her. She could not deny it anymore; the soft way he looked at her, how he cared for her, his bodily _reaction_ when she sat too close. Deep down, Brienne was aware it was just because everyone around him had been so unkind to him for so long that he was just craving a little human warmth, and it would burn out as soon as he found someone better, but for now, it was the truth.

"I do know Jaime. I promise I do."

"Then don't be upset," he ordered softly, as if he had not just been stabbed and it was her who needed comfort and sweet words. His generosity was too much. Feeling so incredibly guilty, Brienne tried to pull away, but it only made him hold on tighter. "What is the matter, wench? Tell me."

The look in his eye was searching enough that Brienne became afraid that he would be able to read all her best kept secrets in her eyes. Consequently, she decided just to tell him the truth; she needed him to know that someone cared for him, even if it was just unimportant Brienne Tarth, after all. "I lied to you, Jaime," she eventually managed to sob. "I lied to you because I was scared, and because of that you might have thought that you were all on your own through this, and I can't bear that..." At that, the wracked sobs replaced the words that she no longer had a handle on.

His grasp on her hand turned tighter as she continued to cry. "I am not all on my own. You are here."

"I know," she conceded, hiccupping as she did so. "But you don't know what I... I..."

"What?" Jaime asked, questioningly, searchingly.

Brienne took a deep breath. She had no choice; she had to tell him the truth. Even if her love could not make up for that of his father, his brother, and his famously beautiful ex-girlfriend, at least it was a small, warm emotion that he might find comforting. She looked down at where their hands were joined; somehow, it was easier than looking him in the eye.

"When you asked me if I loved you as a platonic soulmate or whether I was _in_ love with you, I said the former... but it isn't true. I _am_ in love with you, Jaime, and I lied to you about it because I was scared." All things considered, Brienne was glad that her tears blurred her vision, as she did not know if she was able to cope with Jaime's incredulous stare as she poured her heart and soul out to him. "You are Jaime Lannister - talented, beautiful, rich - and I am just _nobody._ You can't love me forever, I know that because the thought of you and me... it's just ridiculous, isn't it?"

To Brienne's surprise, Jaime shook his head vehemently, before lifting her hand so he could press feather light kisses to each one of her fingers. "It is not ridiculous at all, because I _do_ love you, and I don't care about anything other than you and me, especially what people think. I want you and turnip, and a little family of just the three of us, more than anything in the world. And I'll prove it to you, wench. Every day I will work to make you believe it. I'll look after you, and I'll cook for you, and I'll care you, and if you want me to, I'll have sex with you and make sure it's the best sex you've ever had, and I'll..."

Brienne could not help but go bright red at that suggestion. Having sex with Jaime, _really_ having sex with Jaime, had only seemed to be something out of a ridiculous fantasy up until now, yet here he was offering it to her on a silver platter. It made her blush profusely, even as she kissed his hand in return. "I do not need you to prove it to me Jaime," she said, thinking of how Cersei used to make him feel as if he had to beg for the slightest bit of affection. Consequently, he gazed at her confusedly, as if he did not believe that she wouldn't need that of him.

He blinked a few times, as if trying to fully comprehend what she was saying. "Why?" Jaime eventually asked, his brow furrowed.

Taking in the sight of his beautiful face - his eyes, his lips, his perfect grateful nose - Brienne leant forward, so she was inches from his kiss. "Because I love you, I believe you, I trust you, and I don't need anything more than that."

Brienne had then wanted to take the time to explain to Jaime how she truly felt; that she knew this couldn't last, that one day he would find someone more worthy of him and his love, someone who wasn't a _great ugly bitch_ who would just leave him mocked and derided. However, in that moment, it seemed that Jaime was too caught up in their story, as he grinned at her as if she had just told him the most wonderful news, the best thing he had ever heard. Then, wrapping his arms around her, Jaime pulled Brienne in for a kiss. It was gentle at first, but when she began to stroke his face, Jaime teased her mouth open with his tongue, letting out a little moan as he did so.

It was impossible not to enjoy their kiss - Jaime was everything she had ever wanted, after all - but Brienne knew what this was. It would not last long, it _could_ not last long, because he was Jaime Lannister and she was Brienne Tarth.

Even so, she would cherish every single moment she had with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. Please tell me what you think of this story (the state of Jaime and Brienne's relationship, and anything else really) in a lovely comment or with kudos, because I love to hear from you!


	37. Part XXXVII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime gets some visitors at the hospital...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for coming back guys! As there is a worldwide pandemic on, you might get more updates of this silly story coming your way rather than my more angsty stuff, so I hope you enjoy!

"Why didn't you phone me?" asked Sansa the next day, as the two women unloaded the shopping they were going to deliver to Jaime from the back of Sansa's car. "It was the middle of the night and you had just been mugged.I could have been there for you _and_ for Jaime, instead of you just bearing the burden alone."

In spite of the fact they were at the hospital on behalf of the erstwhile Lannister heir, at the mention of Jaime's name, Brienne could not help but blush. To try and conceal it from Sansa, Brienne leant further into the boot and pretended she was looking for something. "I didn't want to overwhelm him. I had already had to call people who _needed_ to know what had happened and I didn't want his hospital bed to be rushed by crowds."

" _Was_ his hospital bed rushed by crowds?" asked Sansa sceptically, an eyebrow raised.

At Sansa's sarcastic tone, Brienne continued her search for a particular fictitious item. "No. His brother Tyrion refused to come because of some big argument they have had, I couldn't get through to his father, and I told Cersei's PA about the situation, but I haven't heard back from the woman herself yet."

"You called his crazy ex but not me?" asked Sansa bemusedly, as Brienne withdrew from the boot and slammed it shut. "If he was going to have to deal with Cersei of all people, at least Jaime could have done with some friendly faces."

Part of Brienne knew that Sansa was right; it would be good for Jaime to be surrounded by people who cared about him, rather than those who would do him harm. However, Brienne had felt she had no choice but to call Cersei. Although Jaime constantly said he was not with Cersei anymore, according to the rest of the world, she was at a rehab in Dorne and he was a loving boyfriend supporting her through it. And even though Brienne wished and wished Jaime would find a woman who was worthy of him who could love him as Cersei never would, she had a horrible feeling that, eventually, he would return to what he knew. Pressure from his father and Cersei's evident beauty and allure were a potent cocktail, after all.

Not wanting to think of Cersei, Brienne tried to focus on the here and now. "That's why I've invited you today," she said, as the two women made their way across the car park towards the hospital. "When he woke up after the surgery, I was the only person there. I hadn't realised it up until now, but Jaime doesn't have very many friends. He has glamorous contacts - he has both Margaery Tyrell and Arys Oakheart in his phone after all - but none of them are people who would help in a crisis. So I thought... maybe... you could visit him too, and then maybe we could help him not be so lonely, because he doesn't think straight when he's lonely..."

Sansa furrowed her brow in confusion. "Think straight? What is there for him not to think straight about?"

It was on the tip of her tongue - _Jaime kissed me and said he loves me_ \- but even so, Brienne could not bring herself to announce it. For all she loved and trusted him, it would be far too embarrassing for Brienne to tell Sansa what had happened between them, only for Jaime to inevitably, and quite rightly, end things when he found someone else. It was better if it was kept secret; Jaime would be happier that way, as there would no need for him to be ashamed of going from Cersei Marbrand to Brienne Tarth of all people, or for the hungry paparazzi to know.

"Oh, nothing," said Brienne casually, picking up her pace. For a few seconds, Brienne thought she had got away with changing the subject, but then Sansa came back at her with a question.

"Is it Cersei?"

"What?" asked Brienne, suddenly feeling a little nervous at the mention of the famous movie star.

"That's he's worried about," asked Sansa, "because there is so much going on at the moment with her. What with rehab and everything..."

"Mmm," hummed Brienne darkly, knowing what a pack of lies Cersei had concocted to present to the world, that Jaime was having to go along with. "I am sure she is pressing on his mind."

Sensing that the mention of Cersei was riling Brienne up, Sansa decided to turn this into a full-blown inquisition. "And what about you and Jaime? Surely, he must be giving that some thought now he's got nothing to do other than sit, muse, and ponder. You are _soulmates_ after all."

"No, I am sure he is not thinking of that _at all_ ," lied Brienne, blushing at the memory of the time she had spent the previous day sitting on Jaime's hospital bed, kissing him until they were both out of breath. With her face bright red, Brienne thanked the gods for her long legs as she strode ahead of Sansa, which enabled her to put an end to the conversation. "Come on! We've got to get these things to Jaime!"

It did not take long for Brienne and Sansa to find Jaime's room and, when they did, Brienne was pleased to discover they weren't disturbing any doctor's visits. Jaime was propped up in the bed with a glazed expression on his face, watching something boring on the TV. However, the second Brienne and Sansa came through the door, his whole person lit up like a rising star and he smiled at Brienne as if he were seeing the sun rising in her eyes.

"Wench! You are here!" he grinned brilliantly, as Brienne crossed the room to put the small bag of shopping next to his bed. She was about to sit down next to him, wanting to be careful of his injured hand, but Jaime was having none of her gentleness, as he automatically reached out for her when she drew close. Expecting Jaime to hug her, Brienne let out a little gasp of surprise as he pulled her down towards him and kissed her just as passionately as he had the day before, his good hand tangled in her hair as she slumped down onto the bed beside him. Even though she was burning as bright as a flame at the hot, wet feel of his mouth on hers, a chill ran up Brienne's neck because she could sense Sansa's eyes on her. For months now her best friend had been soliloquising on how Jaime was Brienne's soulmate and she should bloody do something about it. Not believing her, Brienne had scoffed at her every single time she mentioned it, saying that all their warm, close exchanges were just a sign of friendship, nothing more. This was going to be harder to shake off.

Pulling away from him, Brienne tried to chide him. "Be careful! I'm pregnant you know?"

"I know," replied Jaime, his smile turning soft as he lifted his good hand and rested it on her belly. "My Baby Mama."

"Oh. My. Gods."

As Brienne stood up, embarrassed, Jaime snapped his head around. "Oh, Sansa. I didn't see you there. What are you doing here?" he asked casually, as if it was no big deal that he was locking his fingers with Brienne's and trying to pull her towards him once more. Given his incessant need for closeness, it was all Brienne could do to stop herself outwardly cringing.

It was made worse by her friend's reaction.

"FINALLY!" grinned Sansa, clapping enthusiastically. "I knew you two getting it on was only a matter of time, ever since we all went shopping at _Wildling Wear!"_

While Brienne tried to look at anything other than Sansa and her abominable Baby Daddy, Jaime let out an amused chuckle. "Sorry, I'm a bit slow," he grinned, wrapping his arm around Brienne when he finally got her on the bed beside him.

"Tell me about it," laughed Sansa, walking forward so she could place her own shopping bag beside Brienne's. "Even though you've got matching soulmarks, you were preaching that platonic soulmate bullshit for months. It was driving Brienne mad!"

At Sansa's confession, Jaime turned to look at Brienne, his expression teasing. "Oh, poor wench. Did you have a crush on me? That's embarrassing."

Given his teasing, Brienne could not bring herself to look at him. "Mmm," she eventually mumbled, her cheeks burning under his green-eyed gaze. "Something like that."

"I'm going to take that as a yes," smirked Jaime, before planting a quick kiss on her cheek, "because it gratifies my ego. And anyway, I had a crush on you too, so we can both be embarrassed together."

As both Jaime and Sansa were now chuckling as if this were all some big in joke, Brienne became determined to turn the conversation onto more serious topics. "How is your hand?" she asked, gently taking Jaime's bandaged hand in her own.

"I'm so high on painkillers it doesn't hurt," he said with a shrug, "but I've got an appointment with the physio later who is going to go through all the exercises and stuff I need to do."

Carefully running her fingers over the centre of his hand, Brienne nodded. "That's good. The sooner we can get you up, home, and living your life to the full, the happier you will be."

Jaime went to respond to that, but Sansa cut across him as she started unpacking the chocolates, handwipes, hairbrush, and other necessities that they had bought Jaime from the shop. "Oooh, Brienne. Why are you so interested in getting Jaime home all of a sudden?"

Letting out a little chuckle, Jaime then raised an eyebrow teasingly at Brienne. "Yeah, Brienne. Why are you so desperate to get me home?"

And then it all went downhill. For the rest of the visit, Sansa and Jaime seemed to delight in teaming up and joking about how slowly Jaime and Brienne's relationship had unfurled, taking many detours and re-routes until neither of them were sure what was up nor what was down. "I've wanted her for ages," said Jaime proudly to Sansa, as he tried to place his bad hand on top of the good so he could loop Brienne in an embrace, "but she took a lot of persuading. I think it was the fact I got stabbed for her that won her over."

 _Like I'm some great prize,_ Brienne thought, irritated, trying to pull away from Jaime for the thousandth time since she and Sansa had arrived. He really was making this whole thing too embarrassing; Sansa would be laughing for _weeks_ at this unbelievable turn of events, and her friend's affectionate chuckling would be nothing on the gloating hyena cackles she would get from the rest of the world if their relationship ever came to light.

 _Jaime Lannister and the great ugly freak,_ she thought sadly, as Sansa started warning Jaime about Brienne's love for fantasy films. _It wouldn't even be believable in a story._

For the next hour, Brienne largely left Jaime and Sansa to chat about her while she flitted around making sure he was comfortable. Even though her ankles were sore and her bladder felt like it was the size of an egg cup due to her pregnancy, Jaime had been stabbed, so she would not want him to suffer even for a second. While Sansa prattled on and on about what Brienne was like as a child as Jaime listened with rapt interest, Brienne tried to help Jaime. She brushed his hair, plumped his pillows, folded his spare clothes up for him, and when he began moaning about a twinge in his shoulder, she gave him a little back rub.

"Thanks wench," he purred, when Brienne finally let go of him to make excuses about leaving. "I hope you come back soon."

"I will," she said, blushing at the intimate tone of his voice. "And Sansa will too."

As Jaime smiled up at Brienne dreamily, Sansa clearly decided to make herself scare. "Why don't you two stay here for a minute? I just need the toilet, so maybe you two could... talk and _stuff."_

Before Brienne had time to object, Sansa dashed out of the room, leaving her perfectly alone with Jaime. Sensing his opportunity, Jaime wasted no time in grasping Brienne's wrist with his good hand and pulling her back down on the bed with him, at the perfect angle for them to kiss. As ever, the feeling of Jaime's lips on hers was warm and exciting but conscious that Sansa would be back soon, Brienne moved away from him.

Disappointed, Jaime pouted at her. "Wench, what's the matter?"

"Nothing," she replied, looking away from him. "It's just Sansa will be back soon..."

"And?" Jaime asked, as if he did not get her problem. "Sansa now knows about us now and... _oh."_

"What?" When he went a little pale and did not answer her immediately, she pushed him again. " _What?_ "

For the first time since she had entered the room, Jaime looked sad. "You are embarrassed, aren't you? About being with me. About Sansa knowing."

Although she was worried that her blush was telling him the truth, Brienne sat down beside him and squeezed his fingers. "No! Of course not!"

"Aemon said you would struggle with this," began Jaime, his words picking up their pace the more he advanced into his train of thought, "of being with me, of me being too much."

"You are not too much," interjected Brienne chidingly, not wanting him to feel less than on her account. "It's just..."

"What?" His green eyes were so big and bright they seemed to take up the whole room.

To reassure him, Brienne planted a swift, sweet kiss against his cheek. "It is just this is going so fast and we've got a lot of things to think about; the baby, your father, _Cersei..."_

"I don't care about Cersei," he said imploringly. "I care about _you,_ I care about turnip..."

"I know," replied Brienne, bringing her hand to his face and tucking a strand of perfect golden hair behind his ear. "Yet, even so, you still need to think about her. The whole world believes she is your girlfriend, after all, so you have to work out what you are going to do about that."

Jaime sighed and Brienne could almost see the weight on his shoulders. "I know I do, I know you are right, but..."

"What?"

"I want to show you how I feel about you," Jaime said gently, brushing his good hand against her belly. "Aemon told me that this whole romance with me might be a little bit scary for you, but there's nothing to be scared of, I promise." Looking into her eyes, his expression turned ardent. "I love you, Brienne, and I just want you to know that."

Although she could hear his words, the heat in Jaime's gaze did make Brienne's skin prickle in both excitement and terror. This _romance_ (as Jaime had put it) was all so new to her, all so big, enthralling, terrible, and wonderful that she did not quite know how to square it with the person she was; Brienne Tarth. Plain, boring Brienne Tarth. Therefore, considering everything that Jaime had just said, there seemed only one sensible thing to do; Brienne kissed him to shut him up. She did not want to talk about this now, and his lips on hers was the best way to buy time.

At least for a moment.

* * *

Delighted at the fact she now had someone to laugh about Brienne's obstinacy, after that first visit, Sansa started going in most days to see Jaime. Even though they mostly talked about her, Brienne thought the light conversation and the opportunity to talk to someone other than herself would be good for him, especially as the responsibility of liaising with Gilly and Sam to organise Jaime's care once he had returned back home had fallen on Brienne herself. As the days progressed, her whole world became looking after Jaime and his health, so she suspected she would not make very good conversation.

Brienne thought that was especially true because of the incessant phone calls she was getting from Hyle, which were putting her in a bad mood.

"Brienne, forgive me. I'm sorry."

"Look, I was trying to protect you by not telling you..."

"Come on, babe, give me another chance."

With everything going on with Jaime, Brienne could not find the energy to care about Hyle, so in the end she just blocked his number and decided she did not want such negativity in her life. Not when Jaime needed her.

_And gods, Jaime needs me._

While Sansa was there for sunny conversations about holidays in Braavos, the latest episodes of _The Young High Sparrow,_ and stories about her friends and family, Brienne was there for the dark moments. When Gilly told Jaime that he would need significant physiotherapy to gain full movement in his hand, he had grown surly and sullen until Brienne had sat down beside him, kissed him, and told him that he was strong enough to bear this.

"Only because of you, wench," he smiled, before exchanging a kiss for a kiss. "Only because of you."

Consequently, Brienne found herself hanging out in Jaime's private hospital room during most physio appointments, and every single moment she was not needed at Seaworth's. She even missed one of Melisandre's birthing classes so she could attend to Jaime (which she did not tell him). While her thesis suffered mightily for it, Brienne was of the mind that if Jaime needed her, she was going to be beside him at his bedside as long as it took.

_That's what love is, after all._

After the conversation they had had on the first day Sansa had come to visit, Jaime also tried to be more circumspect with the way he acted around her. That he was not all over her like a very affectionate rash made Brienne feel more comfortable, and this whole... _thing_ between them _,_ or whatever it was, seem less terrifying.

"Promise me you will tell me if this is too much," said Jaime as he wrapped his arms around her when she went to leave.

Brienne smiled at him, sensing he was feeling a little unsure. "I promise I will tell you if this is too much."

"Good," he replied, before pecking her on the lips. "Because this is it now."

She looked at his confusedly. "What is it now?"

"You and me," he responded, his voice hushed as he leant in for another kiss, as if that solved everything. "You and me."

Yet Brienne knew it did not solve everything. Jaime had always been so impulsive and ready to jump into things headfirst without considering facts, and the most pressing of those facts would be that this could not be forever. If the world knew he had broken up with Cersei Marbrand for Brienne Tarth, an unattractive, penniless, _pregnant_ student, he would be a laughingstock, and she could not bear that.

It was bad enough having people laugh at her, but him? Intolerable.

Those thoughts were still going around and around Brienne's head after she said goodbye to Jaime and then began to make her way out of the hospital. She thought it would be so much easier once he was able to go home; back at his apartment, they could behave like a couple without the whole world laughing.

 _Yes,_ she thought. _It will be simple back home. Just me, Jaime, and turnip._

However, Brienne found herself in for a rude awakening when she reached the reception. At the front desk, flanked by Taena, was Cersei. With the presence of a wrathful goddess, Cersei's green eyes were wide, angry, and beautiful as she bore down on the receptionist with an almost divine fury.

"I don't care what your stupid list says!" she growled, leaning over the desk so she was almost right in the face of the receptionist. "I am his girlfriend, so I _must_ be allowed to see him."

The meek looking receptionist did not seem capable of a fight, but she tried to rally herself. "I am sorry Ms Marbrand, but Mr Lannister has specified a list of people who are allowed to visit him, and your name is not on it!"

As if to prove her point, the receptionist held up said list, but that just succeeded in allowing Cersei to snatch it out of her hands. Reading every name quickly, Cersei started tutting. "Brienne Tarth... Tyrion Lannister... Sansa Stark... I don't even know who this Sansa Stark is! Yet I am his girlfriend, and you won't let me in!"

Sensing that the notoriously demanding Cersei was now about to go nuclear, Brienne stepped into the conversation in order to allow the receptionist a break and to stop all the other people in the waiting room staring.

"Cersei, what are you doing here?"

It took a few moments for Cersei to lift her eyes from the list and look at Brienne, but when she did her expression turned mocking. "I bet this is your doing," she hissed, her green eyes flashing, "stopping Jaime seeing me so you can smother him with your presence and dig your claws in. It won't work, you know. Things between me and Jaime might not be perfect at the moment, but he'll come back. I know he will."

Fearing that Cersei was right, Brienne purposefully avoided her last point. "I didn't even know that Jaime had made a list." In a strange way, it warmed Brienne's heart to know he had and that she was at the top of it.

"As if, you liar," Cersei barked harshly, before shoving the list into Taena's chest. "You think if you mollycoddle him enough and treat him as though the sun shines out of his arse that he'll eventually turn around and see the light and fuck you. I'm telling you now he won't, because Jaime Lannister loves me and has only ever loved me."

Even though Brienne often tortured herself with those very thoughts, she found an unusual sword and shield in the sweet and tender things Jaime had told her over the last few days. That he loved her. That he wanted to _show_ her he loved her, and that she made him feel better about himself.

It was a bright light against the darkness.

"You think?" replied Brienne mildly, not wanting to get into slanging match with an award winning actress.

"I _know_ ," replied Cersei, a satisfied grin spreading across her face.

Perhaps it was Cersei's smug superiority, or her absolute certainty that she could pick Jaime up and put him down as if her were a toy, but it made Brienne decide to press the nuclear button in her personal armoury. "Are you sure? Even though Jaime and I have matching soulmarks."

The colour drained out of Cersei's face in a second. "What?"

"You heard me," replied Brienne, keeping her voice level. "Jaime and I have matching soulmarks. Two swords; his is on his arm, mine is on my foot."

It took Cersei a few moments to recover from that bombshell, but when she did, she fell back on her favourite accusation. "You _liar."_

"I'm not lying," said Brienne, knowing full well she was telling the truth.

At once, Cersei's mouth turned into a snarl. "Then _prove_ it."

"Ladies... ladies... what is going on here?" Looking away from Cersei, Brienne turned around to see the nurse Sam approaching with a conciliatory expression on his face. It was clear he did not want a movie star and her surrogate making a scene in his hospital.

"Mr Lannister has not put Ms Marbrand on his visitors list," supplied the receptionist swiftly, glad that someone was taking this off her hands. "Ms Marbrand then accused Ms Tarth of purposefully keeping her off the list."

Perhaps feeling attacked, Cersei folded her arms across her chest. "I bet she has, I bet..."

"I assure you, she hasn't," said Sam soothingly. "I took the list of names from Mr Lannister myself; Ms Tarth was not in the room at the time and had no control over the people he chose. Therefore, I am going to have to kindly ask you to leave."

Not used to being refused things she wanted, Cersei looked as if she were about to explode. "Do you know who I am?" she hissed furiously, flicking her cascade of golden blonde hair over her shoulder, as if her calling card would make her more recognisable.

In response, Sam smiled at Cersei in a way that did not meet the eyes. "Yes, I do know who you are. You were in _The Storm Queen,_ weren't you?"

Taken aback that Sam had answered her so directly, it took a few seconds for Cersei to start stammering. "I've come all the way from Dorne to visit... I... I..."

"And even though you are a supremely talented actress who has come all the way from Dorne, you are not on Mr Lannister's visitors list so I cannot let you in. You will have to wait to see him until he comes out of hospital."

At his perfectly sensible suggestion, Cersei went to snap back, but Sam held up a warning hand. "If you refuse to comply with my request, Ms Marbrand, I will have to call security."

For a moment, it seemed that Cersei was going to continue regardless, but then Taena piped up. "Ms Marbrand. Think of the PR!"

Therefore, it was the thought of her adoring public and not Jaime's genuine emotional needs that caused Cersei to back down. Ignoring Sam, the movie star turned to Brienne. "I'll be at my hotel, _The Red Keep,_ " she spat furiously, before jabbing a perfectly manicured finger into the centre of Brienne's chest, "so when Jaime finally decides he wants me back, send him there."

Not wanting to give Cersei anymore ammunition, Brienne just smiled at her rival gently, which seemed to throw the world famous actress into a strange tantrum. Letting out a shout of annoyance, Cersei swung her arm out wildly and knocked all the leaflets that were on the reception desk onto the floor, before turning on her heel and marching out of the room, Taena following in her wake.

As everyone in the room was now incredulously staring at them, it took a poor joke to break the tension.

"Well, she's a character," smiled Sam jovially, as he knelt down to pick up the leaflets.

"Yes," conceded Brienne with a laugh. "She is."

Wanting to help, Brienne bent down carefully considering the baby, and then went about aiding Sam and the receptionist in gathering up the leaflets. Most were about upcoming concerts in King's Landing and local tourist attractions; however, one caught Brienne's attention more than the others.

_Tired of the stressful, hectic King's Landing life? Come and volunteer in Lhazar! Build Communities. Build Confidence. Make friends for life!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! As ever, I love to hear what you think in the form of comments and kudos :)


	38. Part XXXVIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime returns from the hospital...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I had to repost this due to the weird AO3 midnight posting thing (sorry TeamGwenee, I think your comment disappeared!). I am sorry the wait has been so long, this one is a BIG chapter and I wanted to make sure everything was right. 
> 
> Warning: A little NSFW.

On the day Jaime left hospital, Sansa came and picked him up because there was so much to carry. While he had been in the ward, his hand slowly mending, Brienne had brought him so many games, books, and things to keep him entertained that they needed to use several bags, especially as the physiotherapist had provided him with a huge pack of information on how to do his hand exercises.

"I thought Brienne would be here," Jaime said, a little disappointedly, as Sansa helped load everything into the bags, being under strict instructions from Brienne not to let him do _anything_ with his injured hand.

At his sad statement, Sansa looked up at him, smiling knowingly. "She's got a shift at Seaworth's she couldn't get out of, but she said she would be round to yours as soon as possible once she has finished. So don't worry. She'll be with you soon."

Yet _soon_ turned out to be a very long time indeed.

Although Sansa stayed with him for a while - driving him home and helping him unpack - she eventually had to leave to meet up with her boyfriend Sandor. "I told you, she won't be long," she smiled one last time, before pecking him on the cheek and saying her goodbyes. Sansa's promises turned out to be shit, however, as Brienne did not return for hours and hours. To pass the time, Jaime tried to do the exercises that his physio had given him, which only made his now useless hand throb with pain. Disheartened, he called Aemon and got a rather encouraging pep talk. Consequently, Jaime was then in a more positive mood, and it enabled him to watch some TV and even go looking for a recipe that he and Brienne might be able to cook together when she returned.

However, his newfound positivity quickly dimmed when Brienne appeared, tired, worn, and with an overnight bag slung over her shoulder. "Hey Jaime," she said, with no discernible good emotion in her voice. "I hope you don't mind, I've brought an overnight bag. I thought you could do with some company considering it is your first night back from hospital."

At her offer, Jaime could not help but grin. "Of course, wench. I'm happy to have you here. I've even been thinking about what to make you for dinner."

Although Jaime could barely contain his excitement at having her back in his apartment (even if it was only for one night), by pottering around, chatting animatedly, and cooking for her, Brienne seemed a little distant. As she helped him make the Beef Wellington, his wench only smiled politely at his jokes, and once she had finished eating, she instantly went to the bathroom, had a shower, and changed into her pineapple pyjamas. Wanting to match her, Jaime then went and did the same, but when he returned to the sofa intent on snuggling, Brienne just got to her feet and moved away from him.

"I think I'm going to go to bed, it's been a long day," she confessed, moving in the direction of the spare bedroom.

Jaime responded as quick as a flash. "No," he said loudly, reaching out with his good hand to entwine their fingers. "Don't sleep in there. Come into my room. Sleep with me."

Brienne's eyes widened like a flower seeking the sun. "Jaime, I..."

"I don't mean like _that_ ," he corrected swiftly, wanting her to feel comfortable. "I mean just come and get into bed with me. I've missed you something rotten, and I want to hold you in my arms."

Even though she flushed a brilliant red, Brienne gave him a hesitant nod and allowed him to direct her into his bedroom. Once inside, Jaime made sure the main light was switched off, but kept the lamp on his bedside table firmly alight. While he fiddled about it, Brienne slipped underneath the covers, laying on her back so not as to put any pressure on her belly. For some reason, Jaime's mouth went very dry at the sight, so he slipped his pyjama top off before getting into bed beside her. Although Brienne looked up at him with bright, nervous eyes, Jaime did not change his mind. Perhaps he just wanted to feel close to her. Skin on skin.

Brienne, however, seemed to have other ideas. Determinedly not touching him, she retreated to the other side of the bed.

"What are you doing over there, wench?" Jaime purred, smiling at her in what he hoped was a sultry way. "I said I want to hold you."

In the dim light, Brienne's eyes seemed to expel all shadows as she gazed at him tentatively. "Come here then," she eventually whispered, using up her entire reserve of courage and bravery to say it. "I am the one who is pregnant."

Laughing, Jaime wasted no time in cuddling up beside her and wrapping his arms loosely around her, placing his bad hand on her stomach. Once he was in position, Brienne sighed loudly, in a way that Jaime could only interpret as an exclamation of immense comfort and rested her cheek against his.

There, cocooned in their joint warmth, Jaime took in everything; the feel of her hair tickling his neck, the curious smell of soap and Brienne, the taut skin of her belly he could feel under his hand. His child. Their child. All these pieces were strangely shaped and incongruous, but they fitted together so well that it made Jaime's poor damaged heart lift.

It was too much to resist.

Shuffling up closer beside her, Jaime moved his hand, threw his bad arm across her breasts and pulled her close to him, kissing her on the cheek as he did. "Brienne," he whispered, placing kisses on the side of her nose, along her cheekbone, and then nibbling at her ear. "Brienne... Brienne..."

As he held her close to him - near and warm - Jaime felt the familiar tightness in his chest, stretching down in between his legs. There was no escaping it; being able to kiss her and cuddle her like this was making him hard. Jaime loved Brienne so much and he just wanted her to know it, know that this was it for him.

Her. Her, her, her.

He so desperately needed her to feel him so, as he started sucking at her neck - marking his longing on her skin with his lips - he began to rut against her thigh, pressing his hardness into her side. Not caring how stupid he looked as he humped her, Jaime held Brienne tighter, his hips beginning to find their own rhythm.

"Brienne," he moaned, closing his eyes in pleasure, every second feeling hotter and hotter. "Brienne... talk to me. Tell me what you want. Tell me what will make you feel good."

"Jaime," she gasped, shuddering as she did so. " _Jaime_..."

The sound of her calling his name was too much. Pulling away slightly, Jaime opened his eyes so he could gaze at her. There was nothing more he wanted in the world than to see her blue eyes alight with desire for him, her cheeks flushed with pleasure. However, on looking at her, Jaime discovered that he was not to get that joy at all, because Brienne was crying.

Stopping the gentle grind of his hips, Jaime's mouth opened in shock. Horrified that there were tears on her cheeks, Jaime used his injured, useless hand to turn her face and get her to look at him. "Wench, what's the matter?"

At his question, Brienne's silent tears ceased, only to be replaced by loud, heart-wrenching sobs. It made the arousal that that been thrumming through his body only moments before dissipate startlingly quickly, as a horrifying self-loathing welled in his chest.

 _I've upset her,_ he thought. _Me._

"Brienne?"

"You don't have to do this," she hiccupped, pulling away from him, pushing Jaime into an icy tundra in turn. "You don't have to make me feel like this."

Jaime didn't know what he had done wrong, so he tried to reach out to her again. His heart ached when she pushed him away. "Feel like what?"

At her rejection, a stream of awful words and phrases crossed his mind; taken advantage of, defiled, violated. In his head, Jaime only associated those horrible ideas with Cersei, but perhaps, given her tears, Brienne was trying to tell him that _violated_ was exactly how she felt when he touched her. The thought that he could elicit such feelings in her nearly broke his heart in two.

Brienne sniffed a couple of time before answering him. "I know you care, but you don't have to make me feel so... so..."

"What?" he asked imploringly, wanting to make things right.

Her eyes were glittering with tears by the time she felt able to say it. "Loved, Jaime," Brienne spluttered, her blue eyes like the sparkling surface of the ocean. "You don't have to make me feel so loved."

Brienne's words sent Jaime to two opposite emotional places at once; overjoyed and euphoric that _loved_ was what Brienne Tarth felt when Jaime Lannister held her and kissed her neck, and heartbroken that she did not seem to want that.

"Why don't you want me to make you feel loved?" Jaime asked, baffled, as she continued to look at him with all the sadness of the world in her eyes. "Love is a good thing, isn't it?"

Perhaps it was the naivety of his tone, but Brienne let out a bitter laugh. "Yes, love is a good thing Jaime but... it doesn't last."

"We will last," he countered firmly, moving closer once more so he could hold onto her again. "You and me, we will last. I know it."

"How do you know it? Because of our soulmarks?" Brienne asked sceptically. The way she was looking at him - all raised eyebrows and her head tilted - made him think that she really, _really_ didn't believe him, no matter how truthful he had always been with her.

 _Maybe she doesn't believe me,_ he thought, horrified, before that terror turned into hope. _Maybe I have to persuade her._

Jaime shook his head, then rested his chin on her shoulder, wanting to expel his darkest concerns and worries. "No, I think we will last because I love you dearly, and I want to make it work."

He had hoped that honest confession would make her smile, but instead it only made her look sadder. "Jaime, I know you think you feel that..."

"I don't think that I feel that, I _know_ that I feel that," he said, quick as a whip. "I _know_ how I feel about you, so don't try to tell me I am lying."

"I'm not... it's just..." Fumbling around with her words, Brienne let out a little huff and dropped her head back on the pillow, the motion making more tears spill from her eyes. "I believe that you feel that now but... what about by face? And my body?"

Not expecting those questions, Jaime blinked at her confusedly. "What about them?"

She did not need to even think for a moment before giving him an answer. "They're ugly. Gross. Disgusting."

Brienne was looking so tortured by that abominable lie that Jaime had to hit back against it. "That's rubbish. Who told you that? Hyle and his stupid friends? Don't listen to them, Brienne, because they are cruel and wrong... so, _so_ wrong."

"Not just them," she gulped, swallowing down yet more tears and fears. "Ron Connington at school; he was forced to go to prom with me by our parents, but when we got there, he gave me a rose and told me I was too ugly for him and that was all I was ever going to get from him. And my stepmother Roelle; she told me that all compliments from men were lies, and if I wanted truth all I had to do was look in the mirror. And my dad's friend Humfrey Wagstaff; he told me I had a crooked nose and an ugly face, and that I was too unfeminine for a man to ever love without a good chastisement. And..."

Jaime could hardly bear to listen to it. Not wanting to hear Brienne reel off terrible things that horrible and cruel people had said to her, he caught her cheek with his good hand and forced her to look at him.

"Do you know what I see when I look at you?" he asked, silencing her.

"What?"

Unconsciously, his eyes trailed over her face. It was unique, yes, but every one of Brienne's flaws were so entirely hers that Jaime could never see them as anything other than beautiful. "I see this cute, crooked nose that is so unique it can only belong to you," he began, running his finger down its curved peak. "I see this freckly skin that makes me want to count every single one and kiss every inch of you before I die. I see these long legs that I dream I could one day have the pleasure of being wrapped around me. I see those big, soft lips of yours that were made to be kissed. I see your blue eyes which I could just drown in. But do you know what I see most of all?"

Her cheeks a rosy pink, Brienne gazed at him tentatively. "What?"

"I see your heart, how much you care, and how much you do things for other people without ever complaining," Jaime smiled, overcome by his feelings for her, weightless and blissful as he looked into her eyes. "You are the first person I have ever met who has ever cared for me without asking anything in return, and that has only made me want to give you everything I have even more. All I know is that I was made to love you Brienne Tarth, even if you have a crooked nose and freckles, so please... let me love you."

She blinked at him, half in disbelief and half in terror, a blush darkening her cheeks. Watching her, Jaime wanted to kiss all her fears away. What was frightening about this? About being in love? He wasn't trying to hurt her or bend her to his will. There weren't any darkly malevolent intentions behind his words. He just wanted to love her. Love on her, love with her, love in her... just that. Only that.

Yet there were still walls around her as tall as a castle's battlements.

"Don't be scared of me, wench," he whispered, his lips at her ear. "It's only me."

"I'm not scared of you," she said quickly, quickly and sincerely, even though she was still crying.

"Then what _are_ you scared of?"

At his question, Brienne swallowed, clearly holding back more tears. "I'm scared that... once this first flush of feeling has passed... you will realise the truth."

"The truth?" asked Jaime, still not understanding. "What truth?"

And then she broke. Unable to keep the wracking, choking sobs back any more, Brienne descended into a cascade of tears. "That you are Jaime Lannister. That you deserve every single happiness in the world and... and... I am too ugly and worthless to give it to you."

It was too much for Jaime to bear. As Brienne cried, wholeheartedly believing all the horrible things she had just said about herself, Jaime pulled her to him and rested her head in the crook of his neck, stroking her back with his broken hand.

"Don't say that, please don't say that..."

"It's the truth," she sobbed, her breathing becoming shallow and rapid, her whole body shaking. "I can't be with you because I'm not good enough for you, Jaime."

"You are wonderful..." he tried to say, but she cut him off.

"Please don't lie! Not to make me feel better!"

Aware that she was spiralling out of control into a whirlpool of panic and fear that would only drown her, Jaime pushed her away and forced her to look at him. Gazing into her sapphire blue eyes, for a moment Jaime saw himself; self-hating, self-loathing, and all because of other people. She needed to be shown the light, just like he had.

"Why do you think that?" he whispered, so quietly that she had to stop wailing to listen to him.

The question made her stop snivelling and consider him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, why do you believe all those terrible things about yourself?"

"They're the truth," she answered, without a hint of doubt or shame.

If it wasn't all so horrible, Jaime might have laughed at that frankness. "No, it's not true, Brienne. And you would know it if you could look through my eyes for even a second. I _see_ you as you really are... and you see me."

As her breathing levelled, Brienne began to return his embrace by resting her hand on his chest. "You are beautiful, Jaime."

"And so are you," he replied, mirroring her self-belief in her ugliness with the opposite. "And if you don't know that about yourself, I think you need to talk to someone."

At his statement, her eyes went very wide. "Talk to someone? What do you mean?"

"You once told me that I should see a therapist so I could talk about these horrible feelings that were weighing me down," Jaime reminded her, taking care to tread softly. "I know you are a psychology student, and I know you are aware of mental health issues, but maybe you are so busy worrying about other people that you can't see it in yourself."

As Brienne listened to him, her breath steadying, it seemed to Jaime as if his obvious truth was hitting her for the first time. It propelled him to continue. "You also told me that I wasn't crazy for needing to see a therapist, but in your case, I think you must be absolutely mad not to see how bloody wonderful you are."

Although his tone was ardent, Brienne hiccupped with laughter. "Jaime!"

"I'm telling you the truth," he said passionately, before pressing a kiss to her temple. "I want more than anything to see how deserving you are of everything good, because you are... _truly._ In fact, I look at you sometimes and think I am not fit to lick your boots, because you've loved me and cared for me even when I was being an oblivious, insensitive twat."

"You weren't that bad," she tried to say, but Jaime silenced her.

"I _was._ Talking about platonic soulmates, when you were obviously made for me right from the start... my amazing, lovely, beautiful Brienne."

At that confession, Brienne pressed a feather-light kiss onto his neck and began to run her fingers through his chest hair. Given her tears and upset, Jaime knew there was nothing sexual in it, but it was more unbearably tender than anything he had ever experienced with Cersei, so he loved the gesture all the same.

"I think you are right, Jaime," she mumbled eventually, echoing what he had said all that time ago.

He could not help but smile at his victory. "I _know_ I am right, wench."

"Don't be smug about it," she chuckled, her voice light for the first time since he had got into bed with her.

"Okay, I won't," Jaime smiled in response, stroking her hair, "as long as you promise me you will do it. Maybe you should call Aemon. He is very good."

Noticing her tears had stopped and her breathing regulated, Jaime pulled her closer, letting her nuzzle his neck. "I promise," Brienne hummed, her words making his skin tingle, "but not tonight. I want to stay here now."

"Good plan," smiled Jaime, as Brienne pulled the covers tightly around them both. "Stay here, with me."

The light coming back into her mesmerising eyes, Brienne smiled at him, all gapped teeth, broken nose, and incomparable beauty. "I'll stay."

It was such a simple promise that Jaime almost started crying himself. However, he managed to get a hold of himself by leaning across to turn off the bedside light, then snuggling back down under the blankets with her, confident that he had talked her down from a terrible self-hate spiral.

"Sleep, wench," he murmured, as Brienne nestled down beside him. "Sleep."

As she closed her eyes and rested against him, Jaime knew he couldn't ask for anything more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please consider leaving comments and kudos!


	39. Part XXXIX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne try to work out what the new normal is...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry this has been a while. I have too many WIPs! That being said, I hope you enjoy :D

When Jaime woke up during the early hours of the following morning, he was surprised to find Brienne still curled up next to him with her head on his shoulder, her hand on his chest, and her snores in his ear. For a moment, he froze. During his relationship with Cersei, Jaime had never experienced anything like this. On the few occasions they had properly shared a bed - she was always jetting around the world, after all - Cersei had been so distant, coiled up like a snake as far away as it was possible to be. It was Jaime who had always had to make the moves in order to be closer, and Cersei would never have casually touched him in the way Brienne was, even in sleep, as it was unconsciously tender.

It therefore almost broke his heart in two that Brienne thought she wasn't good enough for him. Determined to prove her wrong, Jaime drew her closer, kissed her temple, and closed his eyes. He was resolute that she would wake up with his arms around her - him stroking her back, their legs entangled, their hands joined - because if that was what she wanted, that was what she would get.

Brienne deserved the world, after all. And if he could give her a small piece of it, he would.

* * *

"Jaime? Jaime? Are you awake?"

His eyes fluttered open. Blinking, Jaime realised he was in his bedroom with light streaming through the windows, Brienne curled up beside him. For a moment, he wondered whether he was dead and in heaven. As his eyes began to focus, he turned to look at her. Brienne was tentatively gazing at him with those stunning blue eyes of hers, her hair in cowlicks from where she had been resting on his shoulder. For some reason, Jaime thought she seemed nervous so, lifting his injured hand, he gently brushed her face.

"Morning wench."

"Morning Jaime," she replied, before raising her own hand. Momentarily, Jaime was terrified that Brienne would push him away, but then she delicately rested her fingers on his. "How is you hand feeling? Does it still hurt?"

Jaime shook his head, even though it was a lie. He didn't want to talk about his hand. "How are _you_ feeling this morning?"

"Good," she said, a blotchy blush blooming on her cheeks. " _Great_."

"That wouldn't have anything to do with me, would it?" he asked, starting confidently but then tilting it into a doubtful question as the sentence went on.

As her blush became deeper, Brienne leant forward and gave him a quick peck on the lips. Her expression was one of a small girl stealing a cake her mother had strictly told her she could not have. "Maybe."

"Oh good," Jaime replied, smiling, "because you are the reason I feel amazing."

In spite of the fact she still seemed happy about the way things had unravelled between them the night before, Brienne went to move away from him. "We should get up. Melisandre is running one of her pregnancy classes this lunchtime, and we should probably go..."

Preventing Brienne from lifting herself up from their bed, Jaime wrapped his arm across her chest and pulled her towards him, making sure he was gentle with her. "Not yet," he purred. "Stay here."

"Why?" she asked, eyes bright.

"Because I haven't kissed you properly yet, and I really want to kiss you," Jaime whispered, bringing his good hand up so he could turn her face towards him. As she went to answer him - a barely sounded _oh_ \- Brienne's lips pursed in expectation, pink and perfect. Not able to resist any longer, Jaime lunged for her, kissing her in the way they had not quite been able to in the hospital. Hard. Fast. Passionate. The second they made contact, his head started to spin.

Once she had gotten over the shock, Brienne went from slack jawed acceptance to shaping her lips around his, echoing his kiss. Jaime could almost taste her innocence and inexperience, so he tried to help her where he could; by rubbing soothing circles on her back, by making encouraging moans at the back of his throat, and by pressing close to her so she could feel every inch of his desire. It took some time, but eventually Brienne opened up, blooming and brilliant as she faced the sun. Deepening the kiss, she seemed to have no qualms in touching him.

"Jaime," she murmured against his lips as she ran her fingers, feather light, over the fanned ribs along his side. Wanting more, Jaime reached down to place his hand on hers, then encouraged her to move lower, which she did without objection. As the heat blazed between them, Brienne managed to roll onto her side and face him, which allowed Jaime to rub against her far more effectively than he would have done otherwise.

"Brienne... Brienne... oh, my wench..."

She did not say anything back, but just stroked him with careful, adoring hands, like she was handling a priceless artefact in a museum. Her fingers knotted in his hair as they kissed, tongues dancing, and she eventually found the courage to run her flat palms down his bare, naked chest. Although Brienne had not touched his cock, Jaime was so hard it hurt, and wanted to make her feel every blaze of fire that was coursing through his body.

Soon, having her touching him was not enough. As she ran her hands over his bare back - _up and down up and down_ \- Jaime reached out to touch her freckled skin. Scooting his good hand up under her pineapple pyjamas, Jaime stroked the taut, tender skin of her belly, with plans of travelling further south.

However, Brienne froze.

"What's the matter?" he asked, pulling away from the kiss to look at her concernedly. "Are you alright?"

He found she couldn't meet his eye.

"I'm fine, it's just..."

"What?"

When she looked back up at him again, Jaime was confronted by the sadness he had seen in her the night before. "I'm not ready... I mean... I don't..."

"Tell me Brienne," he whispered gently, nuzzling his nose against hers, "I want to make this as good for you as it is for me... and it's _amazing_ for me."

Brienne started worrying at her lip, so Jaime pressed a light kiss to her mouth to get her to stop. He didn't want her to be nervous; he wanted her to enjoy him, use him, have him for her pleasure. Although he had been worried Brienne would not open up to him, after the kiss, she managed to find the words.

"I'm not ready for you to touch me like that yet," she whispered, looking ashamed of herself even as she said it. "I want to touch _you,_ but..."

"Are you scared I won't be gentle?" he asked, thinking of the way Cersei had made him be rough. For a horrible second, he wondered if he _knew_ how to be gentle, but then Brienne put one strong hand against his cheek and he knew he could never treat her as anything other than the wonderful person he thought she was.

To Jaime's pleasure, Brienne seemed horrified by that suggestion. "No! Of course not!"

"Then what is it?"

"It... I... I..." she stammered, before taking a deep breath to stabilise herself. "I want to take this slow. Just because I have a sword on my foot and you have a matching one on your arm, it doesn't mean I can just drop everything I am scared of. I want to take time, but in doing so show you how much I love you. So... I'm happy to touch you, but I'm not ready for you to do _that_ yet."

As she looked at him, nervous and scared, Jaime wanted to cry. Brienne deserved all the pleasure, all the happiness, all the joy, but instead she pushed him away because of some bullshit that she had built up in her head. At the same time, however, Jaime did not want to pressure her, so he smiled at her gently and then pressed a tentative kiss to her swollen lips.

"Okay wench. We'll go slow."

_Slow._

* * *

Later in the day, Jaime found himself walking into Melisandre's pregnancy class with Brienne, hand in hand. When he had first entwined his fingers with hers, Brienne had looked at him with wide, shocked eyes, but Jaime had managed to cajole her with sweet words. "I told you, wench. This is it for me now. You'd better get used to me being in love with you, because that is not going to change."

Even though he had said that to her as they got out of the car, Brienne was still blushing when they sat down in the birthing class, side by side on the mat. Wanting to be closer, Jaime shuffled right next to her, then put his arm around her waist. When she looked at him, for some reason she _still_ looked surprised. "What are you doing? Everyone in this class just thinks I am just your surrogate."

"I think everyone in here with eyes knows that was _never_ the case," Jaime smiled, as he noticed Melisandre looking at them with an expression that suggested she had predicted this outcome _years_ ago, "if only because it was in this class that you gave me a boner."

Brienne let out a spluttering objection. "Don't blame that boner on me. You were the one who was imagining doing _sexy things_ to me - your words, not mine - so you can shut up."

Jaime was still laughing at Brienne's red-faced indignation at the thought that he had been aroused by her when Melisandre clapped her hands to get everyone's attention. "Right, class! Today we will be doing something a little different. I will be showing you a video of a birth of a child, highlighting ways in which the birthing partner can be an aid to the mother during labour. In previous weeks, we have already discussed the early stages of labour - massage, comforting, breathing techniques - but as many of the mothers here are now into their third trimester, it is important we discuss the later stages of the birth and how the birthing partner can be of use."

Thinking this was a sensible plan, Jaime turned to his heavily pregnant Baby Mama. Brienne was now seven months pregnant, so it was coming to the time when they should be thinking of the birth as something more than just the abstract. Perhaps sensing his concern, Brienne smiled at him and squeezed his knee. "I've been looking forward to this," she grinned. "Melisandre is going to finally tell us something about the labour instead of giving you the excuse to rub me all over."

"There's nothing wrong with that," he purred, bringing his mouth close to her ear. "I've thought of hundreds of ingenious ways I could touch you, even if you are not ready for it... _yet."_

Brienne blushed so red at that comment that Jaime could barely take his eyes off her, and consequently missed much of what Melisandre was saying.

"... in the later stages of labour, the birthing partner is mostly there for emotional, rather than physical comfort. They can be there to remind the mother of the relaxation and breathing techniques that we have learned in this class, or to be the bridge of communication with the midwife or doctor. They can help support the mother with difficult decisions about the pain relief, even if it conflicts with the original birthing plan. We are now going to watch a short video showing a real birth, showing the absolutely vital role a birthing partner can play in the closing stages of labour."

As Melisandre began fiddling with the projector to get the video working, Brienne turned to Jaime. "I want to you to pay very close attention to this, Jaime, because you are apparently going to be _absolutely vital,_ so I want your eyes glued to the screen," she teased.

"Only if you do the same," Jaime replied. "I know you are probably going to be going with the flow during the whole labour thing, but it might be good for you to see how someone who has bossed it did it."

Brienne let out a little guffaw. "I'm seriously worried you are calling it _the whole labour thing._ I thought we were here to take this all seriously."

"If you want to take this session seriously, wench, _you_ concentrate on the video, because I believe it was you who first called this class hippy-dippy rubbish!"

If Jaime and Brienne were still quietly giggling to themselves when Melisandre managed to successfully get the video on, they were not a few moments later when they were watching a screaming, possessed looking woman valiantly trying to push what looked like demon-spawn out of her body, while her harried looking husband whispered Dothraki breathing techniques in her ear. As he watched the contorted, terrified pain on the woman's face grow worse and worse, he shot a quick look at Brienne, hoping she was braver than he was.

Unfortunately, she had gone white as a sheet.

"Wench?" he whispered.

"Mmm?" she replied, transfixed on the image of the screaming woman.

"I'll be with you every step of the way, you know that, don't you?"

Turning away from the torture on screen, Brienne looked at him with her big soulful eyes, and squeezed his hand. "I know, but I am still scared."

As that made him feel incredibly guilty, Jaime looked down at their joined hands. "I'm sorry I have put you through all this."

"I'm not," she said gently, which made him gaze up at her, "because otherwise I would not have met you."

Jaime was so happy his heart could have burst.

* * *

Melisandre spent the rest of the class showing the collected unfortunates lots of different videos of women screaming as they pushed variously sized babies out of their bodies. Consequently, once they were free, Jaime hurried Brienne back to the car, determined to cheer her up. Once they were inside, he launched his plan on her.

"Come on wench, let's go out."

"I don't know," she mumbled, "I've got an early shift at Seaworth's tomorrow. I want an early night..."

"It is only two o'clock! And I promise you, I will not take my Baby Mama out late night clubbing. Why don't we go to the cinema? There's that new Arthur Dayne film out... _Good Queen Alysanne_ , I think it is called? It's some kitschy, historical drama, but we could eat popcorn and snuggle like two teenagers. What do you think?"

When Brienne answered him, her expression was soft. "You really like snuggling, don't you?"

"I do," he admitted, a lump blooming in his throat. "And I didn't get to do a lot of it with Cersei."

Brienne nodded, clearly feeling a strange affinity with his past. "And Hyle always used to turn the lights out so he couldn't see my face."

"Bastard," said Jaime forcefully, which only caused Brienne to let out a sad laugh. He could not help but reach out for her hand and squeeze it tightly. "Shall we go to the cinema, then? Although it is in the dark, we can snuggle all you want."

Thinking about it, Brienne bit her lip. "Will you drive me home afterwards?"

"Of course," he replied swiftly, not wanting her to think he would try and take from her that which she was unwilling to give.

At his earnest tone, Brienne blushed. "Then that sounds lovely, Jaime. Let's go to the cinema."

And it _was_ lovely. When they arrived at the cinema, they bought a huge tub of popcorn to share with two enormous sodas on the side, and made their way to the premier seats up the back. As _Ravens_ was an arthouse cinema, most of the seats were actually luxurious sofas, so Jaime could sit right next to Brienne and no one could stop him. She seemed to enjoy it too. With her eyes fixed on the first advert - for a line of brand new sports cars - Brienne rested her head on Jaime's shoulder. Even though he was embarrassed at the fact she could surely hear his heart wildly beating in his chest, Jaime found the courage to place his head on top of hers.

 _This is what a healthy relationship is like,_ he marvelled, barely noticing the few people around him who were pointing and whispering at the fact Jaime Lannister was in a cinema cuddled up to a mysterious woman. _This is what love is like._

The film was watchable, but nothing special - he doubted Arthur Dayne would be winning any Iron Throne Awards for it, even though he was playing Aegon the Conqueror - but Jaime hardly cared because all that mattered was Brienne; Brienne's hand holding his, the smell of Brienne's hair, the crinkles at the corner of her eyes when she laughed, that she cried at the happy ending.

_Brienne, Brienne, Brienne._

After the film finished, Jaime took her hand and led her back to the car, not even bothering to suppress his happiness at just being able to touch her. "Did you enjoy that, wench?"

"I did," she grinned, which made Jaime so happy he was almost fit to burst. "Even if Arianne Martell's wig was _terrible."_

"Oh gods, it was really bad, wasn't it? They didn't even bother to dye her eyebrows," chuckled Jaime. "Did you enjoy it other than that egregious hair disaster?"

"I did, but I've always liked Queen Alysanne, so maybe I am biased."

"Have you?" asked Jaime, surprised.

Brienne nodded. "Yes. I always like how she fought for the rights of other women; even the septas that tried to kill her. In my sillier moments, I've even imagined we'll call our daughter Alys after her."

 _Our daughter._ Jaime skidded to a halt, but kept hold of Brienne's hand, barely able to believe what she just said.

"What is the matter?" Brienne asked, her eyes wide.

"You just called turnip _our daughter._ "

On realising what she had just said, Brienne opened and closed her mouth a few times, wordlessly trying to justify what she had just said. "I don't mean to impose where I'm not wanted..."

"Do you want her to be your daughter?" Jaime asked, a tremble coming into his voice at how desperately he wanted her to say _yes_ , "because if you do, I will call _Peckledon & Payne Solicitors _right away and work out what we need to do to make Alys legally yours. In my eyes, you are her mother and I want to have her with _you_. It would make me the happiest man alive to know you want that too."

For a few seconds, Brienne worked through her thoughts and Jaime could almost see her brain whirring in her skull. Luckily for him, however, her heart beat louder. "Of course I want that! But I signed all those papers when I agreed to be a surrogate, I don't even know how we will get around them."

"We'll find a way," Jaime promised ardently. "She is _our daughter,_ even if we have to jump through legal hoops to get the Seven Kingdoms to recognise it."

Brienne's eyes swum with tears as he made her that vow. "Thank you."

"Please don't thank me, you've been doing all the hard work carrying Alys."

She blinked. "Alys?"

"If you want to call her Alys, we'll call her Alys," smiled Jaime, immediately liking the name because it was from Brienne's idle daydream of their future. "Alys is a _much_ better name than turnip."

Brienne smiled at him and it contained all the light of the sun. "You are right. It is."

* * *

By the time they arrived back at the apartment (his, not hers), Jaime and Brienne had agreed that their daughter would be called Alysanne Lannister, Alys for short, but not her middle name, so they were bickering excessively.

"What about Elissa?" suggested Jaime. "Elissa Farman was a brave sailor who discovered lands to the west of Westeros during the reign of Jaeherys I?"

Brienne shook her head furiously. "No. I knew an Elissa at school, and she used to pick her nose. What about Maege? Maege is a fighter's name?"

"Yeah, and also a _grandmother's_ name," laughed Jaime.

"Speaking of grandmothers, family names might be a possibility," mused Brienne, stroking her chin, "are there any women in your family that you wish to honour?"

"Not likely. My father is pushing for Jeyne after his mother, so I suggest that means we definitely do _not_ pick Jeyne."

Then it was Brienne's turn to laugh. "I suppose we will have to give this some more thought."

"I suppose we will," grinned Jaime, leaning in and kissing her softly on the lips. "Maybe we can do it tomorrow morning over breakfast? I know you have a shift at Seaworth's, but I could always drive you."

At his offer, Brienne reached out and took his bad hand in hers, rubbing it gently. "What about your hand? Surely it is not good for you to be driving?"

"I managed today, didn't I?" he said with a smile. "And, anyway, if I drive, it means we can go and pick up some more clothes to bring back here. I don't know about you, but after last night I don't really want to sleep alone. I want you."

When Brienne beamed at him, the whole world just seemed better. "I think you are right... I can't imagine going back to my flat without you."

Jaime sighed with relief. "Good! Then we best get to bed now, the both of us! You have an early day tomorrow, and we have middle names to discuss."

At his order, Brienne let out a happy little laugh that was only interrupted by Jaime's kiss. "Can I use the shower first?" she asked. "I would like to wash my hair before bed, so I might take a little while."

"Of course, but just remember the shower is broken so you have to leave it for a little bit to warm up. I promise I will get a plumber in!"

After a few more kisses and cuddles, Brienne eventually disappeared off in search of her pyjamas, leaving Jaime alone in the lounge. Nearly singing with joy, Jaime reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Although today had been _wonderful,_ there was one thing he had to do to make sure the rest of his life was just as brilliant. He dialled the number and waited for an answer.

"Hey Aemon?"

"Hi Jaime," came the whispery, but soothing voice. "How are you doing this evening?"

"Great actually. I went to the cinema with Brienne, and now she's gone for a shower."

There was a pause at the other end of the line. "Is she living with you again?"

Jaime swallowed. They hadn't really talked about that, not beyond their desire not to sleep in separate beds. "No, she's just crashing here. It's late."

"I know," chuckled Aemon. "I was just making my cocoa."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for, Jaime. I can listen to your concerns while drinking it," the therapist said, clearly stirring his cocoa in the background. "Now. What is it you want to talk to me about?"

The answer was out of Jaime's mouth before he could stop himself. "Brienne."

"What about her?"

He hated to be doing this behind her back, but he was worried that she would not otherwise take the first step. Brienne always liked to give off the air that she was so strong, after all. "Hypothetically, if I told you that Brienne wanted to talk to a therapist, would you be willing to speak to her? Hypothetically, of course."

Although there was only silence on the other end of the line, Jaime knew Aemon was smiling. "I would," the therapist agreed, "but only if it was her _hypothetically_ making this decision for herself."

"Oh she is, don't worry," said Jaime quickly. He and Brienne had talked about this, after all. "Shall I get her to call you?"

"If you wouldn't mind. Any and all therapy options would have to be talked about with her, not _you_ , Jaime."

Jaime nodded, even though he knew Aemon could not see him. "Of course, of course. I just want to be supportive of her."

"And that is very admirable," said Aemon kindly, "but get her to call me, okay? I will have space for her when she does."

When Jaime got off the phone from Aemon, he turned around to discover Brienne standing on the other side of the lounge holding her pineapple pyjamas, ready to take them into the bathroom. "Who was that you were talking to?"

"Aemon," replied Jaime, feeling there was no need to lie.

"What were you talking about?" she asked, folding her arms across her chest in a way that showed she was uncomfortable.

Biting the bullet, Jaime said, "you. Last night you said you would consider therapy, so I phoned him to see if he would be willing."

"And?" she asked, her face impassive.

"He said you would have to call him but will have space for you when you do."

At that comment, a tidal wave of relief washed over Brienne's face. That surprised Jaime, because he thought that she would snap at him for doing something without her permission. It took him a moment to realise that he was confusing his wench with Cersei. "Do you want to call him?"

"I do," she said with a small smile, that seemed tentative and scared but strangely brave at the same time. "Because, when you touch me, I want to feel worthy of it."

That statement hit some soft, tender part of Jaime's chest so forcefully that he almost choked on air as he went barrelling across the room, prepared to kiss away all her fears. "It is _me_ who doesn't deserve _you,_ " he said passionately, cupping her face with his hands, even the one that was broken and useless and hurt. "You are everything good in the world and you need to believe it."

"I'll try," she said, a tear rolling down her cheek. "I promise."

Pulling her into his arms, Jaime kissed her again, as if they were running out of time. When they broke apart, her eyes were glistening. "Come get into bed with me," Jaime begged. "Sod the shower, you can have one in the morning. I need to hold you. Please?"

Brienne nodded as her smile began to erase her tears. "Okay. Take me to bed."

So he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I am aware that was the softest pile of fluff ever, but I feel these two needed some of that. Thanks to effulgent_girl for the idea of the birthing video! I hope you enjoyed it and, if you did, please consider leaving comments and kudos. I love them!


	40. Part XL

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne goes to see Doctor Aemon...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG, have I finally updated this? Yes I have and I am so sorry it is so late. I hope you enjoy this chapter, it was a very difficult one to write.

"Do you need anything before you go in? Some water? A snack? Do you want me to take your coat?"

"Don't worry, Jaime," said Brienne, "I'll be fine."

He gave her a tentative smile. "As long as you are sure, because I can come in with you if you want. Obviously, I won't go into the _session_ with you, but I can be there until you are settled."

Jaime was staring at her so ardently that Brienne could not help but smile. She had said something very similar to Jaime the first time he went to see Doctor Aemon, after all. Sensing his worry, Brienne reached out and took his injured hand in hers, holding it as carefully as if it were a baby bird. "I'll be fine, I promise. But I would love to meet up with you once I have finished. I should only be an hour."

"Deal," he grinned, trying (and mostly failing) to squeeze her fingers with his injured hand. It would take a lot of work before the movement came back properly. "Shall we meet at the ice cream parlour opposite? I am going to go over to _Peckledon & Payne Solicitors _to inquire about our options concerning Cersei and Alys. It is only a preliminary chat, so hopefully it won't take too long."

"I'll wait for you, don't worry," said Brienne softly. "Take all the time you need."

 _I'll wait for you forever,_ she thought.

She loved the way Jaime always seemed to have a near permanent grin on his face now, so let him pull her close and hug her. Strangely, it made him even happier. "I'll see you in a while, wench."

"See you soon," Brienne replied, her lips smushed against his shoulder.

They stayed like that for a few more moments, until Jaime eventually pulled away, his expression one of pride. "Remember, you are doing the right thing, wench. The brave thing. You are Brienne the Brave."

At that comment, Brienne could not help but blush. "I'm not..."

"Yes you are," Jaime countered. "That is what you told me when I first came to visit Aemon; that I was being brave. Now it is your turn to be brave. So go do it, wench. I believe in you."

That he was being so supportive made Brienne want to cry, but instead she just nodded at him and steeled herself for what lay ahead. "Okay. I'll text you when I am out."

"Make sure you do," he said firmly. "Otherwise I'll be worrying."

Then without another word, Jaime leant forward and planted a soft, but purposeful kiss on her lips that absolutely anybody could have seen. It was as if he was unashamed. "See you later," he said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear before pulling away.

"See you later," mumbled Brienne, unsure of what else to say, as Jaime walked away from her, waving and blowing kisses as if he wanted people to know that she was his, as if he wanted the world to know that they were in love. Brienne went to call him crazy, but then she remembered why she was here.

 _I am here to learn how to let him love me,_ she thought, _without if feeling as if I do not deserve it._

Taking a deep breath, Brienne eventually found the courage to turn away from Jaime and walk up the steps to Professor Targaryen's door. Once she was inside, she found herself in a small white room with bunches of flowers on every surface. Clean and bright, the place had a minimalist beauty that instantly told her this was a therapist's office. Wanting to get moving, Brienne sighed herself in with the receptionist Val and then went and sat in one of the comfortable armchairs to wait. There were a pile of magazines on the table that drew Brienne's eye.

_CERSEI AND JAIME: TROUBLE IN PARADISE?_

_JAIME SPOTTED IN KL: IS IT ALL OVER FOR LOVE'S YOUNG DREAM?_

_TYWIN IN DORNE: HAS THE LANNISTER PATRIARCH STEPPED IN?_

Needing to ignore Cersei of all people if she was to focus on her own battered mental image, Brienne decided to turn the magazines over. She was halfway through doing so, when Aemon came out of his office.

"Ah, Brienne you are here," he smiled. They knew each other distantly from KLU, which meant Brienne was a little more open to talking to him. Nevertheless, she still held out her hand to shake. Luckily, Aemon obliged her.

"Sorry I am a little late," she said, but Aemon shook his head.

"Don't worry, you are perfectly on time." Gesturing towards the door he had just come out of, Aemon said, "why don't you come on through? I've just put the kettle on. I'll make us some tea."

Brienne's insides were churning as she followed Aemon into his office, which she found a homely, comfortable sort of place. The room was well lit with a big bay window, giving it a sunny feel. Aemon had also bedecked every surface with flowers, which Brienne found strangely soothing.

"Why don't you sit down, Brienne? Are you happy for me to call you Brienne?"

"Brienne is fine," she said a little stiffly as she sat down in the armchair. She could not help but be reminded of the many times that Jaime had sat just here and poured his heart out to his therapist. "Shall I call you Professor Targaryen? Or Doctor Aemon?"

"Aemon is fine," he replied gently, before turning the kettle off. "Brienne, would you mind pouring our tea? My eyesight is not what it used to be, and I don't want to disturb Val."

Brienne nodded at once, thankful to have something to do with her sweaty hands. "Of course," she said, getting up from her seat and going to help Aemon. While he had a traditional Rooibos, Brienne went for a camomile; she had heard it was calming.

Once the tea was poured into teacups, placed on sauces, and accompanied by a ginger biscuit, Brienne walked back across to the armchair and sat down, taking a nervous sip of her tea. Aemon followed, put his tea down on the coffee table, then sat opposite her. It felt as if he were looking into her soul, even though she knew he could not see her very well.

"So, Brienne, before we start, I would just like to say that this is talking therapy, so the aim here is for you to talk, me to listen, and for us to find some pathway forward together. Does that sound okay to you?"

Brienne nodded.

To her surprise, Aemon chuckled. "I will need some verbal confirmation of your consent; not only is this _talking_ therapy, I am visually impaired."

Even though Aemon was smiling warmly, Brienne could not help but blush. "Okay, I consent."

"Good," Aemon smiled, leaning back in his chair. "Now, tell me. How can I help you today, Brienne?"

It was hard to find the words.

"Jaime loves me and... I do not believe him."

"Why? Do you think he's a liar?"

"No!" replied Brienne horrified, almost getting up from her seat in her agitation. "Of course I don't think he is a liar! Jaime's always so sincere and when he's not being sincere... he's flippant and cruel and treats everything like a joke because he does not want to show people how deeply he actually feels things. You know him, right? You are his therapist."

At that statement, Aemon's expression turned sage. "Yes, I do know him, but we are not here to discuss him or what he tells me in our private sessions. We are here to discuss _you._ You say you do not believe him when he says he loves you, but equally claim that you do not think him a liar. How can you square that circle?"

In spite of herself, Brienne felt the tears coming to her eyes. "It is not a matter of squaring that circle, but of facing the truth. How can he, one of the most handsome men in the world, love me? I am ugly!"

"Does Jaime say that to you?"

"No!" Brienne replied, not liking the picture she was accidentally building of the most wonderful person she had ever met. "Jaime says I'm beautiful... even though I think I look like a beach ball carrying this baby."

It took Aemon a few moments to respond to that, but when he did, it was not particularly informative. "Mmm," he hummed, running his finger along his chin.

"If you don't mind me asking, what are you _mmming_ about, Aemon?"

At her question, Aemon smiled at Brienne in amusement. "As a therapist, I am contractually obliged to mmm at any given point, especially when my patient reveals something so potentially important."

"Potentially important?" Brienne repeated, raising an eyebrow at him. "What did I say?"

Aemon's smile seemed all knowing. "You said that you _think_ you look like a beach ball, not that you _do_ look like a beach ball. To me, it seems as if you are on some level aware that your evident self-esteem issues - which are now working as a barrier between you and Jaime - are a construction. There's nothing real about your belief you are ugly; it is just that, a _belief."_

To hear that she was putting up barriers between herself and Jaime made Brienne's stomach tie itself into knots. "It is not a belief... it is true."

"Why do you think that?" asked Aemon, his tone academic.

And then before she knew it, Brienne had collapsed into tears as the horrible truth poured out of her; Ron Connington and his rose, Roelle and her whispered comments about Brienne's ugliness, her crooked nose, her gappy teeth, her ugly hair, her height, Humphrey Wagstaff and his home truths about how no man could ever love a woman who looked like her, and Hyle and his stupid friend's cruel bet. Her eyes almost stung at how much she was crying, yet Aemon just patiently listened and provided her with tissues.

For the rest of the session, Brienne's cheeks were wet with tears.

"And I know Jaime does not think like them, but surely he will eventually, won't he? He used to be Cersei Marbrand's boyfriend, and she is the most beautiful woman in the world. How can he _not_ see it?"

"But is that all she is?" asked Aemon pointedly, ignoring Brienne's question. "The most beautiful woman in the world? Or does she have other _features_ of her personality that stand out to you?"

Thinking that Aemon was trying to lead her into saying the ways in which Jaime and Cersei fit together, "Jaime deserves so much better than her," said Brienne sharply, not leaving any room for objections. "She's beautiful, yes, but she is also cruel, manipulative, and narcissistic. Jaime deserves someone who loves him, who is kind and treats him well, and will never see him as a tool to use to get more likes on social media."

Brienne expected the therapist to counter that outlook, but instead he asked her a question that almost knocked Brienne off kilter. "Do you love Jaime, Brienne?"

"Of course I do," she said, admitting it now almost as easy as breathing. "How could I not?"

He then aimed another inquiry at her. "And do you believe Jaime thinks you are kind?"

"Yes," she mused, thinking of all the hundreds of times Jaime had used that exact word to describe her. "I think he does."

"And do you treat him well?" Aemon asked, "and would you use him as a tool to get more likes on social media?"

Finally seeing where Aemon was going with this, Brienne pulled her walls up around her. "Of course I wouldn't. He deserves to be loved and appreciated for what he is, but how I behave towards him is irrelevant, isn't it?"

"Why?"

With that question, so little but disarming, Brienne felt something snap inside her. "Because I am not beautiful, okay? And every single person I have ever met has looked at me pityingly for that fact, knowing that I must suffer to be alone forever because of it. What man wants an ugly troll for a girlfriend? Whenever has a woman been noted for her brains or her kindness or her goodness without someone pointing out how fat she is or whether her legs look good or whether her make-up is just right? I can be kind to Jaime and care about him as a friend, because I know it is possible for him to return those feelings. But love? How can he love this face, this body, when to the world their limitations are all that matters about me? Beauty is _all_ that matters, and I can never escape that horrible, disappointing truth."

She only noticed how heavily her shoulders were heaving with her tears when Aemon handed her the box of tissues and looked at her concern. "No, my dear girl," said the therapist tenderly, "beauty is not all that matters, and I promise you I will help you see that. I promise you that Jaime cares for you because of the light inside you, and we will work together to make sure you believe that. That you believe in him."

* * *

By the end of the session, the world almost felt like a different place.

Although she felt immensely thankful that she had been able to talk to Aemon and truly unburden herself - even if it made her cry - Brienne now felt so exhausted she just wanted to go home and curl up in Jaime's arms and let him stroke her hair. Nevertheless, she could not deny she that her heart felt lighter than it had in years. Yes, Aemon had not yet convinced her that her looks were inconsequential, but it was a relief that she had finally been able to cut this pain out of her chest, by putting it into words and sending it into the world.

 _And this is just the first step,_ she mused. _Imagine what it will feel like after more sessions._

"I have us pencilled in for next week, if that is alright with you," said Aemon.

"Perfect," smiled Brienne, feeling almost pathetically grateful.

"Good," replied Aemon, "because I have an exercise for you to complete this week."

That made Brienne feel nervous, but nevertheless she nodded. "What is it?"

"Every morning, I want you to list two things you like about yourself - one physical, one not - and over the days slowly build up your list. Then every day, I want you to read that list to yourself like this: _I like my smile, I like that I am a good friend_ etcetera."

That seemed like a very strange request. "How will that help?" she asked, baffled.

"Loving yourself does not come naturally for some people," replied Aemon, kindness in his eyes. "No matter how much other people love them, there are too many shadows in the past for it to be so. Therefore, loving yourself is a radical act of resistance against all the people who have told you otherwise and it starts with a small step; teaching yourself the tools to be able to fight back against this horrible narrative you have been living with. I'm showing you how to use the hammer, now you just have to practice."

Aemon's instructions were still on Brienne's mind when she finally arrived at the ice cream parlour to find Jaime was already there. The moment she entered the building, he waved and gestured at her, wanting her to come join him. When she did so (with great difficulty as the seats were quite low) he pulled her into a deep kiss. Brienne suddenly felt quite thankful for her lips, as it meant she could feel every inch of his mouth on hers.

As Jaime pulled away, stars in his eyes, Brienne asked, "how did it go at _Peckledon & Payne?"_

To her surprise, Jaime waved a dismissive hand at her. "None of that now. And I don't want to know what happened with Aemon - unless you want to tell me, of course - because I think that now is the time for ice cream, not for angst."

In truth, Brienne was still feeling a bit tender, so she was not quite ready to open up to Jaime about everything that had gone down with Aemon. Consequently, she was quite open to his plan. "That sounds nice."

"Yes it does," smiled Jaime, before pecking her on the cheek. "Now, the only question is, do you want a chocolate or strawberry Knickerbocker Glory?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I tried to draw some parallels with Jaime's first session with Aemon back in Chapter 27, so I hope you spotted those. As ever, I love to hear what you think, so please consider leaving comments and kudos. Each one makes me a very happy bunny!


	41. Part XLI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne consider their legal options...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, thanks so much for coming back for this chapter (which was a lot quicker than the last). 
> 
> Just a warning for this one. It is NSFW... *at last*

As seven months became eight, Brienne needed Jaime's help more than ever; to pick things up she dropped, to help her get from a sitting to standing position, to reach her own trousers when she put them on in the morning. She thought she would be frustrated by it, but it was always accompanied by such a perky "let me help you" from him that it only succeeded in warming her heart. For this reason, and because she just wanted to, Brienne had also moved back into Jaime's apartment properly. In some ways, it was the same as it had been before - he still cooked for her and gave her foot massages when she asked - but in others it was totally changed. Before, she had been able to hide her feelings, but now, due to her overwhelming pregnancy hormones and Jaime being so near, she felt so horny all the time it almost drove her crazy. She was sure it was visible on her face.

"What are you looking at, wench?" teased Jaime, as she watched him put together a very expensive cot from a flatpack store, his shirt off seemingly just for her pleasure.

She shrugged, not wanting him to know how hot she felt. "Nothing."

"You sure?" Jaime smirked. "Because you are blushing. You have such pretty blushes. Do you happen to think I look quite manly like this, doing DIY shirtless?"

Hot and bothered, Brienne had retreated to the bedroom, partly to avoid him laughing at her and partly to prevent herself from pouncing on him and ripping off all his clothes.

Things were hardly better when he had his shirt on, either. Every night they slept in Jaime's bed together, entwined, and when they woke up, they held hands and talked about their upcoming day. And to top it all off, Jaime would kiss her as if it was natural, as if he enjoyed it, and stroke her hair out of her face as they lay side by side. Her whole body tingled as he did so.

"What are you doing today, wench?" Jaime asked, looking totally unaffected by their closeness.

"I have my last shift at Seaworth's before my maternity leave, and then I am going to meet Lyanna," replied Brienne, putting her hands on his cheeks in order to avoid them running elsewhere. "What about you?"

At her question, Jaime grimaced slightly. "It is my first photo shoot since the stabbing. Margaery Tyrell is wanting an editorial shoot to advertise her new film, and I said I would oblige... for the right fee."

In spite of the fact that Jaime returning to work was a good thing, Brienne's stomach swooped. Since the stabbing, Jaime had been trying very hard with his exercises the physio gave him, but he was nowhere near full mobility. Consequently, he would not be able to operate the camera as well as he used to, and Brienne worried it would make him even more agitated about his hand than he already was. And then, on top of that, he was doing a photo shoot with _Margaery Tyrell_ of all people _._ That was like a warning shot but aimed directly at Cersei's head.

Nervous, Brienne cupped Jaime's cheek with her hand. "Are you sure that is a good idea? Considering everything that has gone on with Cersei...?"

Sensing where she was headed, Jaime silenced her with a kiss. "Don't worry, sweetling. This isn't about Cersei. Margaery's new film is about exploring the Lost City of Yeen with a Jogos Nhai, so we will be shooting with a real zorse! That's why I wanted to do this!"

"That sounds fun," smiled Brienne, knowing Jaime's love for animals all too well. "Is it a wild zorse or a captive one?"

"Unfortunately captive," replied Jaime. "I believe Margaery's people are bringing him in from Bitterbridge Safari Park, but I am going to make sure he is well taken care of. I also want to donate my fee to a charity that supports zorse conservation in the wild."

That confession did funny things to Brienne's heart. "Oh, that sounds like a wonderful idea."

"You know I always wanted to be a wildlife photographer when I was younger," said Jaime blushing, "and now it is my chance to do something close to that. I couldn't turn it down."

He looked so excited about the prospect of photographing a real life zorse that Brienne decided not to mention directly that doing a shoot with Margaery Tyrell would do nothing but piss Cersei off more than she probably already was, considering that Jaime was obstinately not playing her media game. However, she did not want to upset him so, instead, Brienne tried another tack. "And then we've got the meeting later on with Podrick and Josmyn to talk about Alys..."

Jaime's enthusiastic smile dimmed slightly. "That will be fine, wench. Don't worry. Shall I meet you at their office at five?"

Although Brienne did not think everything would be _fine_ \- in the preliminary meetings Jaime had had with his two lawyers, they had made it clear to him how difficult it would be to overcome the paperwork Brienne had signed forfeiting her rights as Alys' mother - she wanted to keep him in this good mood, so she kissed him gently then said, "okay. That sounds perfect."

After that, the two of them got up to have breakfast together and Jaime insisted on making Tyroshi pancakes one handed. Brienne stood behind him as he did so, her arms wrapped around his waist. It was a little difficult because of the baby bump, but the sight of him cooking breakfast while his hair was still mussed up from sleep made her feel so heart-warmed and horny (a weird combination of emotions, she had to admit), that Brienne could not let go, even when he had finished cooking and served up. While eating, Brienne could not help but sit close beside him and hold his bad hand as tenderly as she could. She needed to feel near to him.

"While I would love to stay here eating pancakes with you all day," smiled Jaime once they had both finished eating, "Margaery is going to be at my studio in an hour, so I really need to think about heading off." Brienne pouted at him sadly, but Jaime instantly kissed it away. "I'll see you later at the solicitors, mmm?"

"Okay," she said, before offering him a kiss of her own.

Once Jaime had changed and left for work, Brienne had a shower herself, changed into some comfy maternity clothes Jaime had bought her, then decided to do the exercise Aemon had given to her. Heading back to Jaime's bedroom, Brienne pulled out the list of positive points about herself that she had been slowly cultivating over the past few weeks. Sessions with Aemon were proving very fruitful, but it meant she had to do a lot of hard work "rewriting her personal narrative", as he called it. That morning, she had to think of something she was happy with concerning her physical appearance. It took her a few moments, but she eventually remembered something Jaime had said the previous day that made her smile, so she wrote it down.

_I have pretty blushes._

_It is so much easier to love myself when there is someone who loves me,_ she thought.

* * *

Brienne's last shift at Seaworth's was quite dull - there were not too many customers - so she eventually gave up with her sudokus and texted Jaime to keep herself entertained.

 _Brienne:_ How's the photoshoot going?

 _Jaime:_ Great, apart from the fact that the zorse took a piss on Margaery's 1000 dragon shoes before either of them had even turned up, so I could have spent an extra hour having pancakes with you.

 _Brienne:_ Urgh. That's so annoying. I've been thinking about you for _hours_ x

 _Jaime:_ I've been thinking about you too, so much so that I made you something before Margaery arrived.

Brienne was about to ask Jaime what exactly he had made her, before a picture came through that almost made her drop her phone. It was of Jaime himself. He was stretched out on the chaise longue he kept in his studio for photoshoots, as naked as his nameday, with only an almost translucent piece of cloth draped across his groin. Having been on dating apps, Brienne knew this was a very artfully done sexy photo, but a sexy photo nonetheless.

Her cheeks caught fire at once.

 _Brienne:_ Why did you make me this?

 _Jaime:_ To titillate you.

Despite feeling extremely titillated by the picture, Brienne was so gobsmacked that she could not find the words to reply. Instead, she just stared at the photo as she clenched her thighs together, her mouth watering as she did so.

 _Jaime:_ Titillate is a posh word for turn you on, btw.

 _Brienne:_ I know what titillate means!

 _Jaime:_ Do you like the photo? Or do you wish I hadn't sent it?

Brienne took a breath. She wasn't used to demigods like Jaime Lannister taking nude pictures of themselves for her enjoyment, so she felt equal parts embarrassment, shock, and toe-curling arousal.

 _Brienne:_ Yes, I do like it - you look very handsome - but I don't quite know how to deal with it.

 _Jaime:_ Look at it. Enjoy it. Get yourself off to it. Whatever. And then I'll send you more until you learn to be less embarrassed.

 _Brienne:_ JAIME!

 _Jaime:_ Love you! Keep your phone on for more updates throughout the day xxx

Even though she tried to sell books to Davos' customers, Brienne could barely concentrate, as her phone kept buzzing every half an hour or so with a new photo he had sent. Each one was from a different angle from the first, but in all of them Jaime was naked and gazing at the camera invitingly. With every new message, Brienne became even more tightly wound, and the tension was thrumming through her body so forcefully by the end of her shift that she felt like she needed to see Jaime and _do_ something about it.

However, she had agreed to meet Lyanna for a coffee, she could do absolutely nothing about the fact that the last photo Jaime had sent of her had been of his torso with the artful piece of cloth pulled dangerously low so she could see his Adonis belt at the bottom of his chest pointing towards...

"Brienne?"

"Sorry, Lyanna, what were you saying?"

Lyanna smiled at her as she took a sip of her coffee. "I was just asking how you are coping now you are back at your flat. It must be difficult considering you were in Jaime Lannister's posh apartment for months."

"Oh, I'm not back in my flat," said Brienne, stirring her spoon in her Hot Chocolate. "I'm still at Jaime's."

In her surprise, Lyanna's eyes went wide. "Oh? But I thought you were going to move out? I thought you could not stand staying in that flat while Jaime was with Cersei."

Even though she knew it was technically still a secret, Brienne could not resist telling Lyanna. Leaning forward and keeping her voice low, Brienne whispered, "Jaime is not with Cersei anymore. All the stuff you hear in the newspapers is what Cersei and Tywin's PR teams have put out in an attempt to get control of Jaime again, but that's not what he wants... he wants me."

"You?"

"Me," repeated Brienne, resting her hand on her belly over Jaime's baby, wanting to feel close to him. "He loves me."

Brienne was worried that Lyanna would start warning her off - she was not a fan of Tywin Lannister, after all - but then she began to smile at Brienne warmly, reaching out to take her hand.

"Oh, Brienne, I am so happy for you," Lyanna smiled. "Are you together and just waiting for the right moment to announce it to the world?"

Choosing her words carefully, Brienne tried to explain. "I don't know. We haven't put any labels on it yet. It is not like we can with the situation with Cersei and the baby being what it is..."

Perhaps noticing how Brienne's smile was fading, Lyanna waved her hand. "Don't worry. I am sure you will work it out. Let's talk about something else."

So they did. Lyanna told Brienne all about the Dornish Architecture Conference she had given a presentation at recently, while Brienne was thankful there was someone who was willing to listen to her waffle on about her thesis. Jaime tried, bless him, but it was all a bit out of his area of expertise, so he often just told her how clever she was, and he was sure she would do amazing. It was not because of his supportiveness that Brienne kept thinking of Jaime at that moment, however. As Lyanna was explaining the layout of the Water Gardens, Brienne's phone buzzed again. This time, Jaime was laying on his front on the chaise longue, but he made no attempt to cover himself up at all. She could see _everything_ , right from the sculpted shoulders, the back muscles that made her believe in the gods, his toned calves, and his perfect, perky arse. And once again he was looking at the camera _hungrily._ At the sight of him like this, Brienne lost all track of everything Lyanna was saying.

Jaime was still on Brienne's mind when she arrived at _Peckledon & Payne Solicitors _on Aegon's High Hill an hour later. Although she knew she should be worried about the outcome of the solicitors' analysis of the Alys situation, but she kept flicking through the pictures Jaime had sent her.

Each one was art. Each one was downright filthy.

She was totally engrossed in one he had taken of just him from the waist up from the back, his head turned to the right, so Brienne could see his face in profile. Jaime was so beautiful that it was difficult to believe that he loved her this much, that he had spent a free hour taking pictures of himself designed purely to please her. Washed away by the emotion of it, Brienne nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard his voice.

"Which one was your favourite?"

Looking up from the naked Jaime on her phone to the pleased, smirking one in front of her, Brienne blushed. "I... I... I..."

"Come on, don't be embarrassed," Jaime smiled, wrapping one arm around her waist. "Tell me, and I might re-enact it for you later."

Bright red, Brienne managed to mumble her preference. "I liked the one where you were laying on your front."

"Oh," he purred, his grin growing bigger. "You like my arse, do you?"

"It's... err... nice," stammered Brienne, not able to put into words how _wonderful_ she thought Jaime looked naked.

At that admittance Jaime looked so pleased with himself, that Brienne almost couldn't look at him. "Well, that's good to know," he said, reaching for her hand and putting it slowly into the back pocket of his jeans so she could feel the part of him she liked so much. "Now, come on. We have a meeting with our solicitors, don't we?"

He was smiling at her so sweetly that Brienne could do nothing but give him an appreciative squeeze through his jeans. "Yes, I suppose we do."

* * *

In spite of the fact she was bubbling with excitement about life, the world, and that Jaime Lannister got pleasure from her liking his arty nudes, Brienne's mood dropped when faced with the realities the solicitors forced on her.

"I have to be honest," sighed Josmyn, the huge folder of documents Brienne had signed right back at the beginning laid out in front of him, "I haven't got much in the way of good news for you."

Trying to be optimistic, Jaime smiled at the harangued looking solicitor. "Come on, there must be _something_ in all the small print to help our case of making Brienne Alys' mother?"

Podrick looked up from perusing the papers to stare curiously at Jaime. "Alys?"

"That is what we've decided to name our daughter," said Jaime proudly, before turning back to Josmyn. "And she is _our_ daughter - mine and Brienne's - so you have to do something to make that official."

Sensing he was getting a little worked up, Brienne linked her fingers with Jaime's. It seemed to calm him down at once. "Josmyn, Podrick," said Brienne, raising her voice for the first time. "What is the problem as you see it?"

The two solicitors exchanged a glance, before Josmyn laid out the truth. "If you had signed these papers in Braavos, they wouldn't be legally valid, as their system would not recognise any form of document in which the birth mother - that being the woman who physically gives birth to the child - surrenders her maternal status, outside of an adoption. Furthermore, in Myr, all three of you would be going to prison, because any exchange of money surrounding the issue of surrogacy is completely illegal, in order to protect the rights of the woman whose body is being put under such stress for nine months..."

"However," interrupted Podrick carefully, "in the Seven Kingdoms, the law is clear. The surrogate is legally allowed to sign a statement of abdication, in which she abdicates all legal rights to the child once he or she is born. That is what you did, Ms Tarth."

Brienne nodded. She remembered doing just that in this office nearly a year ago.

"In this second document," continued Podrick, gesturing towards one of many pieces of paper on the table, "you rescinded you rights quite specifically to Ms Cersei Joanna Marbrand, who then signed here stating she would take up the role of the child's legal mother."

"Yes, but there must be _something_ you can do about that," said Jaime exasperatedly. "There must be a loophole, or... something."

"The way we see it, you have two options," said Josmyn, picking up where Podrick had left off. "The first is a legal adoption. After the child's birth, Brienne adopts the baby back from Cersei. That will require Ms Marbrand's co-operation and agreement, of course."

Jaime let out a harsh bark of laughter. "Fat chance of that. What is our other option?"

"That you think back to the implantation process to see if it contradicts anything claimed in these documents," replied Josmyn, pointing to yet another stack. "If there was anything even slightly out of the ordinary about the whole process, there could be scope to challenge the validity of these forms and therefore Cersei's rights to the baby."

Jaime glanced at Brienne. "Was everything normal? I only waited outside; you were in the room. Did everything seem... as you would suspect it to be?"

Brienne tried to think back to those early days, but it was difficult as it almost seemed a different world. "I think so. I am no scientist, but everything that Doctor Qyburn said seemed to make sense."

"Do you trust this Doctor Qyburn?" asked Josmyn, looking from Jaime to Brienne and back again.

Jaime shrugged. "As far as I trust any doctor. I don't really know him, but he seemed professional."

"Talk to him about the process, see what you can find out and report back to us," said Josmyn. "From there, we'll see what we can do about challenging these documents."

After their session at _Peckledon & Payne Solicitors, _Jaime seemed a little subdued, so Brienne made sure to kiss him quite passionately once they were outside.

"It will be alright," she said firmly, wanting to believe her own promises. "I am sure we will find a way. We just have to talk to Doctor Qyburn..."

"Without Cersei catching wind of it," muttered Jaime darkly. "The second she works out what we are doing, she will be all over this like a rash. She doesn't want Alys for Alys, but because she wants a nice prop in her multi-million dragon photoshoot she's arranged."

Not wanting to see him so grumpy, Brienne kissed him again. "I know, but we'll work it out. I'll go through the documents and see if anything contradicts my memories of the implantation process, and maybe we could get in contact with Qyburn. It will be alright. We can do this. Together, we are unstoppable."

At that heartfelt declaration, Jaime smiled at her. "We really are, aren't we, wench?"

"Of course," replied Brienne, matching him grin for grin. "Now, I was thinking we could go home and grab a Pentoshi takeout, curl up and watch _The Kingslayer and the Wench._ What do you think?"

"Perfect," Jaime agreed, taking her hand in his. However, they had only got two feet down the road when he cracked. "Oh, damn."

"What's the matter?"

"I didn't finish putting all my equipment away at the studio," he said irritated. "Why don't you get back home and order the food, and I'll meet you there as soon as possible?"

"Sounds great."

She did not let Jaime go before giving him yet another kiss and waving at him until she could no longer see him.

Once Brienne returned to the apartment, Brienne called the Pentoshi takeout and ordered the spiced noodles Jaime liked for eight. She knew he would be back by then, so thought it would be a good idea to have a relaxing night just cuddled up together in front of the TV, even though she was still feeling a little hot and bothered because she still had all Jaime's naked photos at her fingertips, after all.

Needing to cool down, Brienne grabbed an old band t-shirt that doubled as a nightgown and went to the bathroom. After a quick shower, she put it on, before heading to Jaime's room (which she supposed was now _their_ room). She wanted to find her dressing gown, but she discovered she was waylaid when she saw that a second scrap of paper had joined the one she had abandoned on her bedside cabinet, the one she was writing as part of Aemon's exercise. It only took her a few moments to realise that the second list was in Jaime's awkward left-handed scrawl, written in response to Brienne's list. Her heart jumped into her throat as she read it.

_All the reasons I love you, from Jaime_

_\- You are the kindest person I have ever met_

_\- You have these astonishing eyes that look directly into my soul_

_\- You are brave and loyal, but totally modest about it_

_\- You have the_ longest _legs_

_\- You are such a great listener_

_\- You have the most gorgeous freckles_

_\- You make me really really hard, especially during birthing classes_

_\- You love me, even though I am too much_

_\- You are so wonderful that I could continue writing this list forever (but I won't, because it is really hard to write with my left hand)_

If it was any other day, Brienne might have burst into tears at how lovely this list was, but not on the day that she had been thinking about him for hours and he had sent her titillating photos that he had sneakily taken in his studio while he was waiting for Margaery Tyrell and a real life zorse. Consequently, Brienne hurriedly found her phone and opened one of the pictures Jaime had sent her. He looked so golden and beautiful that she could no longer take it. Swiftly removing her underwear, Brienne began to touch herself; slowly at first, but then faster as her imagination took over. It was a little difficult considering the baby bump, but she was so overwhelmed by the thought of his hot, naked body on hers, that Brienne had to do something to take the edge off tension inside her, to do something about...

The door swung open. "Wench, I..."

Brienne froze. Jaime was standing in his doorway, his eyes wide, while she remained seated on his bed, her legs spread apart, her hand between her open thighs. In a second, Brienne went such a brilliant red that it almost matched his sheets. "Jaime!" she gawped, unsure of what to do to make this horribly embarrassing display any better. "I didn't know you were back, I didn't..."

His expression was so unreadable that, when Jaime crossed the room and came and sat down on the bed next to her, Brienne's words trailed off. She had expected to see disgust in his eyes, but instead she spotted a pink warmth in his cheeks that made her skin ripple.

"Do you need to get off?" Jaime asked seriously, his voice husky as his gaze almost burnt into her skin. Brienne swallowed heavily. Nobody had ever asked her anything of this nature so directly before, so she just ended up nodding dumbly at him. That caused a smile to begin to bloom on Jaime's face, before his tone turned unendingly polite. "Do you want me to help you get off, Brienne?"

Again, Brienne found it difficult to vocalise her desires, so she just nodded for a second time. Armed with her consent, Jaime moved at once. Reaching down between her thighs, he lifted her hand - slick with her desire - and brought it towards his mouth.

"Jaime, what are you...? _Oh."_

He did not speak as he licked the tip of her middle finger, his tongue warm and wet against the pad. Having expected him to recoil at the taste of her, Brienne was astonished when he closed his lips around where he had just licked then drew more of her finger into his mouth, sucking the taste of her excitement from her skin. Strangely, Jaime seemed to be enjoying it; as he moved from finger to finger, he closed his eyes, his golden eyelashes casting shadows on his golden skin. Brienne could only watch awestruck as he cleaned her up with his mouth, enjoying the pleasant, vibrating humming sound he was making as he did so. Transfixed by the sight of him, Brienne squeezed her thighs together in an attempt to do something about the ache he was inspiring in her.

Once he had finished, Jaime opened his eyes and locked their hands together, looking immensely proud of himself. "Do you want me to put my hand where yours was, Brienne?"

Again, mute nodding was all she could offer him. Nevertheless, Jaime grinned at her, then then dropped his hand between her thighs to where she was most swollen and sensitive.

And then he started _stroking_ her.

"Jaime!" Brienne gasped, as he petted her gently, all the while gazing into her eyes.

Smirking, Jaime bit his lip, but did not let up. "Does that feel good?"

She hissed as he parted her lips with one finger. "Uh huh."

"And what about _this?"_ he purred, beginning to move his fingers in neat, quick circles. It was reminiscent of the way Brienne touched herself, but so _so_ much better.

"Yes," she panted, resting her head against his shoulder as the heat began to pool in her belly and the tingling started up between her thighs. "Just like that... _just like that."_

Although she could not see his face, Brienne knew he was still smirking, as he started to move his fingers faster, which only succeeded in summoning choked moans of desperation from deep inside her. Wanting to regain some control over herself, Brienne began to grasp at his t-shirt, clawing at his chest in the process. In response, Jaime groaned, echoing her own plaintive cries of desire.

"Fuck, you look so hot like this, begging me," he moaned, slipping two fingers inside her and pumping his hand, mimicking what it would be like if he was truly inside her. "So hot, Brienne. You don't know how hard you make me."

Wanting to know for herself, Brienne slid one hand down Jaime's chest - across where she could feel the steady _thud thud thud_ of his heart - right down to his crotch, where she discovered a conspicuous bulge. Brienne wanted nothing more than to return the pleasure he was giving her, so she began to rub him through his trousers, feeling the length of him as he continued to harden.

"Jaime... Jaime... _Jaime,"_ panted Brienne, as he fucked her harder with his fingers, the palm of his hand pressing against the centre of her desire with every thrust. It was too much, so she closed her eyes and gave into the pleasure. "Jaime... I... _oh gods."_

"Can you take three, wench?"

"Three?" she moaned, barely comprehending what he was saying. "What do you...?"

"Three fingers," he panted, picking up his pace. "Can I fuck you with three fingers?"

Lifting her head up from his shoulders, Brienne gazed at Jaime. His whole face was flushed red with desire, his eyes bright, and he looked so goddamn beautiful that Brienne could do nothing but nod. Jaime obliged her request at once.

"Oh gods, Jaime," moaned Brienne, feeling so full and stretched and perfect. " _Please,_ sweetling _..._ yes... _please..._ "

"My Brienne, my wonderful Brienne," Jaime said in response to her begging, with every thrust of his fingers pushing her closer and closer towards the edge. "Come for me, wench. Take what you want and then _come for me._ I want to feel you, I want..."

It hit like a tidal wave washing over the shore. With a burst of light, Brienne came with a shudder around Jaime's hand, and she had to clamp her thighs together to stop it all becoming too much. As the last spasms of desire shook through her, Jaime kissed her face so tenderly, even as she trapped his good hand between her thighs.

"Jaime, that was so good, so lovely," she eventually managed to say, once the greatest peak of the feeling had passed. "Thank you."

In the glow of gratitude, Jaime smiled at her. "You don't have to thank me, wench. I _want_ to make you feel good, because I want you. I love you so much."

"I love you too," Brienne smiled, so buoyed by those words that she did not even feel the loss when she unclenched her legs so he could release his hand. Jaime grinned at her so blissfully that Brienne knew that she had to do something in return. "Let me... let me..."

Jaime looked at her confusedly for a few seconds before she lifted his hand up from between her legs and comprehension dawned on his face. This time, Brienne put Jaime's fingers in her mouth. Copying what he had done, Brienne sucked the taste of her arousal off his hand, watching as his eyes became blown with desire. It felt strangely dirty, but sexy and primal at the same time, and Brienne could feel the excitement building in her belly. By the time she had licked his fingers clean, she wanted to kiss him more than anything, so crashed her lips against his in a passionate battle of tongue and teeth. Simultaneously, she reached down for his flies and desperately tried to get them undone. During her brief relationship with Hyle, she had got him off with her hand a few times and wanted to do the same - no _better_ \- for Jaime, especially after what he had just given her.

Unfortunately, he moaned with something that sounded like pain as she grabbed at him. At the noise, Brienne flinched away, horrified at her own clumsiness.

"I'm sorry," she babbled, making to get up and move away from him. "I don't really know what I'm doing, I'll...

"Do you want me to show you how to make me come?" he said abruptly, his voice sound strained, "or do you want to watch me do it myself so that you know for next time?"

_Next time?_

Feeling so overwhelmed that her brain could barely compute, Brienne looked back at him and somehow managed to stammer, "watch... I think you must look so hot touching yourself."

Laughing suddenly at that confession, Jaime took off his jacket and t-shirt before lying back on the bed, making quick work of the zip on his trousers with his good hand. "Okay, wench," Jaime smiled mischievously, looking up at her with burning eyes. "Sit back and enjoy the show."

And then, Brienne was well and truly titillated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you enjoyed that, I've been sitting on this one for a while. Of course, Westerosi surrogacy laws are not the same as real world surrogacy laws (the laws of Braavos and Myr are more reflective of the real world), but I hope they were clear as we journey into this next bit of the story.
> 
> As ever, I would love to hear what you think in the form of comments and kudos!


	42. Part XLII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne spend some time together... alone...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for coming back for this chapter! I want to give a special thanks to Apple_Queen who suggested the idea of the CTG scan ages ago. I hope you enjoy.

Jaime did not last very long, not with Brienne's eyes on him, her stare heated and hungry. Given the slow way she had built to her climax, Jaime was quite embarrassed that he came like a teenage boy first discovering how to masturbate, but his shame quickly subsided when she leant across and kissed him, running her fingers through the mess he had made on his stomach.

"Thank you," she whispered after they broke the kiss. "I can never thank you enough."

Jaime furrowed his brows at her, confused. "What for?"

"Your patience," she replied, before pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, "I honestly thought nobody would ever take the time to care for me like this... to make me feel okay about everything I was scared of."

There was such a tentative affection in her eyes that Jaime felt compelled to reach up and cup her face with his hand, smiling at her gently. "You don't need to thank me, not for being decent."

"You are not being decent, Jaime," Brienne said gently. "You are being extraordinary. Simply extraordinary."

After that heart-warming statement, filled with star-eyed wonder, Jaime could not continue to lay on the bed looking up at her. He needed a shower and he wanted her to come with him and show her how much he loved her all over again. So he told her so.

"Wench, I need a shower. Join me."

Brienne crimsoned at once. "I... I've just had one..."

"Have another." Sitting up, Jaime kissed her gently, until he felt her relax against him. Pulling away, he smiled at her. "I'll wash your back, give you a massage, and anything else you want me to do."

"Okay," she said tentatively, holding out her hand to let Jaime lead her into the bathroom. To make sure she felt wholly happy and safe, Jaime tucked her arm through his so he could support her as they walked towards the shower. Now she was eight months pregnant, she had a slight tendency to waddle.

Once the bathroom door was closed behind them, Brienne turned to face him, the nervousness back in her eyes. "Jaime, I don't know..."

"Come here," he said gently, reaching for her once more. His Baby Mama gave him an anxious smile, before letting him draw her into his arms and kiss her gently. Although it was not too passionate - mostly just shaping their lips around the other's - it eventually got too much for Brienne and she pulled away once more, so Jaime had to use his most coaxing voice in order to convince her to remain open and vulnerable for him. "Let me help you take your clothes off, then we can get in the shower and I'll wash your back."

Once again, Brienne crimsoned. "You don't have to; I can do it myself..."

"I know, but I want to help you," Jaime replied, melting at how innocent and wide-eyed she looked. "Let me help you. Please."

Perhaps it was his soft tone, but for whatever reason, Brienne approved of his plan. Armed with her nodding agreement, Jaime gently pulled the band t-shirt over her head, before folding it up carefully and placing it on the toilet. As he turned away, Brienne made to cover up her naked body with her arms, so he faced her once more and shook his head.

"Please let me see you," he asked imploringly, not wanting her to feel awkward or nervous in his presence. "Brienne, it's only me."

She continued to look at him nervously for a moment, until she eventually found the strength to shove both her hands to her sides. In that fixed, rigid position, Brienne looked like a soldier about to go into war, tense and scared. Wanting to comfort her, Jaime reached out and cupped her cheek again. She responded by opening her eyes.

"Beautiful," he mumbled gently. "You are so beautiful, Brienne."

Jaime expected her to bloom at the compliment, and he was not disappointed when she gave him a tentative smile. "So are you, Jaime."

"Thank you," he replied, drawing closer to her. If he could turn this into a game, he might be able to relax her more and get her to enjoy this as much as he was. "Is there anything I can do to make this easier for you?"

Losing her courage, Brienne dropped her gaze to the floor. "You could... um..."

"Tell me, please," Jaime said breathlessly, tucking his hand under her chin to make her look at him again. That only succeeded in making her go an even more brilliant red.

"Would you take your clothes off for me?" she asked, her voice so quiet he barely heard her. "I want to see you too."

Even though her request was fairly innocuous, Brienne cheeks were pink with embarrassment, so Jaime did not offer her a cutting response. Instead, he just nodded and acquiesced to her request. Brienne's eyes seemed to grow bigger as she watched him undo his belt and unbutton his trousers one handed, and her pupils blown with desire by the time he was totally naked.

"Jaime, you're..."

"Aroused?" he said, laughing, taking a glance down at his growing erection. "Yeah, I am, but it doesn't matter. If we get in the shower, I'll wash your back... and wash away my boner. I'll make you feel good, I promise."

Having no more objections, Brienne accepted with a timid smile and then let him help her climb into the shower by holding his arm for support. Jaime clambered in afterwards, shutting the curtain behind them before turning the shower on, gauging its temperature by Brienne's reaction.

"Too hot?"

"A little," she replied, which compelled Jaime to turn the shower down ever so slightly. "There. That's perfect."

Once the temperature was just as she liked it, Jaime picked up his most expensive citrus body wash and squeezed a blob into his left hand. Working it into a lather with his good hand, he then started to rub it into her back, taking care to remember all the massage techniques that he had learnt from Melisandre's birthing class.

"Oh, that's so perfect," breathed Brienne gently, as Jaime traced the constellations of her freckles with keen fingers.

He could not help but smile. "What about this?" he asked, placing delicate kisses all over her shoulders.

"Even better," she purred, her voice turning strangely gravelly.

From there, it was impossible to deny the thrum of electricity between them, not least because Jaime's eager and excited cock kept poking into Brienne's buttocks. Wanting to distract himself, Jaime found some shampoo and washed her hair, taking great joy in massaging her scalp in smooth, graceful circles. Unfortunately, the sounds that escaped her mouth were not just ones of pleasure, but ones of _sexual_ pleasure, particularly after he turned her around to kiss her deeply and then began a slow journey down her body, nuzzling and biting her bare flesh to give her nothing but joy.

"Put your foot on the edge of the bath," Jaime ordered huskily once he was down on his knees, gazing up at her like a pilgrim in front of a statue of a goddess.

Brienne suddenly looked nervous. "Why?"

"I want to do something nice for you."

It took a few more moments of consideration before Brienne eventually agreed and, manoeuvring around her swollen belly, put her foot where he wanted her to. With her open and wet for him, there was nothing Jaime could do but lean in and kiss her just _there,_ before licking and sucking at her in a way that made her moan.

"Jaime, what are you...? _Oh..."_

All her objections fell away and she finally just surrendered.

As her body was overcome with the effort of her release, Brienne put all her weight on his shoulders, just managing to hold herself upright. Wanting to help her, Jaime got to his feet and pulled her in for a deep kiss, her whole body slumping against him.

"Did you like that?" Jaime asked, watching her flushed face with his eyes full of stars.

Still reeling from her orgasm, Brienne nevertheless found the strength to nod tentatively. "Yes, it was wonderful, so good... please let me do the same for you."

"The same?" he asked confusedly, not used to this type of reciprocation. "Are you...?"

"Please, Jaime," she said, eyes bright. "Please."

And then it was his turn to surrender.

Starting with the body lotion, Brienne lathered it up in her hands, all the while gazing at him warmly. Jaime wanted to cry. Brienne was touching him so tenderly as she ran her fingers through his hair; massaging his scalp and making sure the shampoo was fully rubbed in. As she did so, Brienne kissed his shoulders and the nape of his neck, whispering soothing things like _I bet that feels good_ and _you are so lovely, Jaime, so lovely_ as her fingers rubbed neat circles into his skin. Jaime wanted to thank her, saying it was her who was wonderful and perfect and brilliant, but his words were caught in his throat. Nobody had ever touched him with this much care, not since the mother he could barely remember. Cersei certainly hadn't; whenever she had run her fingers through his hair, it had only been to pull at him in a passionate clinch, or to direct his head where she wanted it. Brienne's touch was so different that Jaime easily surrendered himself to the feeling, and let her take care of him, in a way he had always longed to be.

Once she had rinsed the shampoo out of his hair, Brienne turned Jaime around to look at her, cupping his face in her hands as she did so. Before he could say anything, she planted as slow, tentative kiss on his lips, which he immediately went to deepen. Conscious that his gesture was an invitation, Brienne unhurriedly began to run her hands down his chest, following the path carved by the sluicing water. The sensation overwhelming him, Jaime began to make moaning sounds at the back of his throat as her touch journeyed lower and lower, down the central plane of his chest, past his belly button, and to the top of his groin.

He pulled away quite suddenly when Brienne circled her hand around his cock. "You don't have to," he gasped, trying and failing to prevent his hips moving in shallow little thrusts.

Brienne smiled almost mischievously, his excitement clearly arousing her. "I want to, Jaime, I really want to," she breathed, her grip tightening with every word. "Remember, you showed me how, didn't you? And I want to do for you what you did for me."

Recalling the way he had masturbated for her, demonstrating the grip and rhythm that always succeeded in pushing him over the edge, Jaime nodded. "Yes, Brienne. Do it. I want to feel you."

So she did, and Jaime saw stars.

* * *

The next few days were ones of lazy bonding. As Brienne had finished her shifts at Seaworth's, she had nowhere to be, and Jaime moved all his photography appointments in favour of just lying in bed with her. Most of the time they were both completely naked, exchanging orgasms as easily as conversation, kissing and kissing and kissing until they both felt dizzy. They barely moved other than to forage for food, apart from the time that Jaime knelt down on the floor next to the bed in order to eat Brienne out while she moaned, screamed his name, and begged for more. Yet that did not mean reaching the realised climax of their relationship, as Brienne was not quite ready for full, penetrative sex. Jaime did not mind, though, as he had never felt like this before - happy and floating and in love - and was only too pleased to bask in the feelings of utmost contentment and care that she inspired in him.

In fact, his mood only darkened when, at the end of the second day, Brienne gazed at him with concern in her eyes.

"Jaime?"

"Mmm?" he replied, unable to prevent himself from leaning forward and nuzzling into her neck.

"Alys hasn't moved today."

His heart instantly leapt into his throat in fear, even though he was surrounded by Brienne's arms, near washed away by the warmth of her. "What?" he asked, his voice choked.

"Alys hasn't moved today," Brienne repeated, moving so she could look him in the eye. "Normally she is kicking and hiccupping and wriggling but today... nothing."

"Does she do this often?" Jaime wondered aloud, hoping the answer was _yes_ , because that would mean there was nothing to worry about.

Brienne shook her head. Jaime was out of the bed and searching around for clothes in a heartbeat.

"We should call Catelyn," he said concernedly, while putting his pants on. "She'll be able to tell us if this is normal or whether we should be worried."

Brienne bit her lip nervously. "Do you think this is worth getting worried about? What if she starts moving in a bit?" She looked so sweet and innocent in that moment that Jaime stopped putting his clothes on in order to lean forward and peck her on the forehead.

"I just think we are better being safe than sorry," he said soothingly, before pulling back and going in search of his shirt. "So come on wench, it is time to get out of bed."

While Brienne showered, Jaime called Catelyn and asked whether she could fit them in for a last minute appointment. She said she could but, as they would need to be seen also by one of the nurses, they had to be at the clinic bang on five o'clock. Jaime agreed in a heartbeat.

"Come, wench, Catelyn's got an appointment for us," said Jaime when she emerged from the bathroom, wet and naked. He tried to sound entirely nonplussed, but it was difficult considering the worry about Alys, and that Brienne was currently standing in front of him with no clothes on.

Sensing his arousal, Brienne pulled one of her shirts out from the wardrobe and used it to cover her breasts. She smiled and, quite suddenly, he felt less worried. "I'm nearly ready. I'll be with you in a moment."

Once Brienne was dressed, they called a cab to take them to a clinic. It arrived five minutes later, and the two of them huddled in the back, Jaime's arm around Brienne's shoulder. 

"Do you think everything will be alright?" Brienne asked nervously, keeping her voice low so the driver wouldn't hear.

Jaime leant his head against hers. "Sure it will. Catelyn will help us, I know it."

When they arrived at the clinic, Jaime and Brienne were soon directed through to a room where Catelyn and an unfamiliar man was waiting. Doctor Stark smiled as she directed them into chairs. "Brienne, Jaime, this is Nurse Cassel. He will be assisting me today."

While Brienne shook his hand, Jaime raised a sceptical eyebrow at Catelyn. "Assist you? In what?"

"We will be administering a CTG scan to measure the baby's heart rate and movements for an hour. Nurse Cassel and I will be conducting the scan, and we usually ask for any family to wait outside while this process occurs."

For the first time since entering the office, Jaime's fear spiked. "I want to stay with Brienne."

"You can wait in the waiting room," Catelyn said reassuringly. "It is just for an accurate reading, we will need to strap Brienne into a machine and attempt to stimulate the baby's heartbeat. It is better if she is not distracted."

Brienne turned to Jaime and gave him an amused smile. "Catelyn's saying you are too much of a distraction for me, sweetheart."

The thought that Brienne found him a distraction sent a blush to Jaime's cheeks, but he just about managed to beat it back by focussing on the situation at hand. "And what are you looking for in this test?"

"A reactive response," said Nurse Cassel, supplying the answer. "If we can trace the baby's heartbeat working normally, we can put the baby's inactivity for the past day down to her just feeling lazy. If we get an unreactive response, we will do more to work out what could be the root cause of her inactivity."

The explanation seemed to soothe Brienne somewhat, so she nodded. "What do you need me to do?"

"Well," said Nurse Cassel, "if you would like to come with me, I will go and get you fixed into the machine."

As Brienne slowly got up from the chair to follow Nurse Cassel, Catelyn smiled at Jaime. "And Jaime and I will just have a word outside while you are getting all fixed up."

"Okay," replied Brienne breezily, letting Nurse Cassel to direct her over to the chair in which she was to be examined. Jaime did not feel so casual about all this, however, and only agreed to let Catelyn lead him away after Brienne had blown him a reassuring kiss.

"Are Brienne and the baby going to be okay?" asked Jaime the second he and Catelyn were outside the office. "Nurse Cassel knows what he is doing? Right?"

"Jory knows what he is doing, and I will be back in there in a minute to oversee the whole process" replied Catelyn reassuringly, keeping her voice hushed even though they were separated from Brienne by the glass. "But that is not the most important thing here, I'm talking about what can cause the baby's heartbeat to be effected."

Jaime furrowed his brow in confusion. "What do you mean? Has Brienne got some underlying health condition or something?"

"No, nothing like that," said Catelyn, putting her hand on Jaime's shoulder. In that comforting gesture, Jaime had to admit she had a good bedside manner. "It is just that we are coming back to this topic of stress again."

"Stress?" said Jaime, bemused. For the past few days, Brienne had appeared everything but stressed as she lounged around in his bed, giving him orgasms and accepting them in return.

"Stress," repeated Catelyn emphatically. "Even this late into her pregnancy, it is important that she is not unduly stressed. I just want to impress that upon you."

"I don't think I am stressing her. We are together now..."

Catelyn's eyes widened suddenly at that revelation. "You are together now? What? As a romantic pair?"

"Yes," replied Jaime quietly, hoping she would not mind that he had spread that news beyond the current trio of Sansa, Pod, and Josmyn who knew the truth. "Ever since the mugging Brienne and I have been a couple."

"Then why do all the magazines still think you and Cersei are together?" asked Catelyn sharply, folding her arms across her chest. "According to one I read this morning, you are looking for a new house in Sunspear to be closer to her rehab facility."

Jaime found it difficult not to roll his eyes; Cersei's PR machine was unstoppable. "That's all untrue," he said confidently. "I am just playing along with Cersei's games until I have stuff cleared up with my lawyers. Once all the paperwork concerning the baby is sorted, I will be able to come clean and end it with her. _Publicly_."

Catelyn pulled an expression that clearly showed she did not want to get too involved with this knotty issue, but nevertheless attempted to fight the corner of her patient. "Well, all I am saying is living a lie may be stressing Brienne out."

"But she doesn't say..."

"She doesn't have to say in order to feel," said Catelyn firmly. "I just think that it might not be good for her to be your secret, and letting the world know the truth might be better for you, her, and the baby."

Jaime went to object to that line of reasoning, but then Nurse Cassel called for Catelyn, and she turned away. "I have to go and attend to Brienne now, but think about what I said, okay?" concluded Catelyn, reaching out to squeeze Jaime's wrist reassuringly. "If you want to go grab a coffee while you wait, there is a cafe by the reception. I promise she is in good hands."

Without another word, Catelyn turned around and disappeared back into her room, leaving Jaime alone in the corridor. It felt as if someone had just stuck their hand into Jaime's chest and seized his heart with a balled fist.

 _Are all these lies stressing Brienne out and hurting Alys?_ he wondered, an image of Cersei smiling gloatingly coming to his mind's eye.

_Is there some way I can more effectively fight against Cersei's narrative and prove to Brienne that all this is real?_

_And does it involve announcing the truth before any of us are ready?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! As ever, I would love to hear what you think in the form of a comment or kudos!


	43. Part XLIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne tries to change her narrative...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, thanks for coming back for this chapter! As you can probably tell, I am stuck in a bit of a rut with this story at the moment. Real life has got notably busier, and we have now hit the part of the story where Jaime and Brienne are slowly moving towards a new emotional equilibrium, which I always find hard to write. So please let me know how you think this is going; it will give me all the inspiration I need!

Aemon always put far too much sugar in Brienne's Hot Chocolate, but during her meetings with him it always felt necessary. He was so committed to scooping straight down into her soul, that Brienne always felt she needed some sweetness to counter the bitterness.

"That must have been a relief for you," said Aemon gently, "to know that Alys was responding."

Brienne could not help but smile; she now found impossible to think of little Alys as anything other than hers and Jaime's baby, who they were bringing into the world so they could be a family. "It _was_ a relief. When Catelyn said that they had detected a heartbeat, I almost kissed her. And then I went to see Jaime... and he was happy too."

Taking a sip of her Hot Chocolate again, Brienne tried to tell herself that the heat in her cheeks was due to her drink and not because she was thinking of Jaime. Ever since they had started sleeping naked in the same bed as each other, Brienne could not rationally consider her Baby Daddy anymore. To her, Jaime was all feelings, sex, and love, so she found it very difficult to analyse him with her therapist in any meaningful way.

And, amazingly, Jaime seemed to feel the same way about her.

"That's wonderful," smiled Aemon, evidently pleased that everything was alright with Alys. "That must put you in a good mental space at the moment."

Nodding, Brienne dropped her hand to her belly, wanting to feel the little life that was growing beneath her heart. "Yes. For the first time, I feel truly connected to Alys and to Jaime... like we can be a proper family, even if we do eventually have to fight Cersei for custody... and even if I feel too--"

"I'm going to stop you there."

Brienne pulled herself out of her train of thought to furrow her brow and gaze at her therapist in surprise. Aemon almost _never_ interrupted her when she was talking about her feelings.

"Why?"

Aemon smiled at her kindly. "You were just telling me all about how happy you are; about Jaime and Alys and the family you are building together. You were beaming from ear to ear and it is wonderful to see. But then, suddenly, your expression came over all dark as you said _I feel too..._ What were you going to say?"

Brienne shuffled uncomfortably in her chair. She was so used to putting herself down that she often did not even notice she was doing it until Aemon pointed it out to her.

"I was going to say..." said Brienne tentatively, suddenly ashamed of herself, "that I feel too ugly to have something this good."

Aemon furrowed his brow. "Too ugly? Now why do you think that?"

"Probably something to do with my personal narrative again," said Brienne resignedly, giving her therapist a sad smile. "I have been working on trying to change it, but I just find it hard."

Aemon considered her point for a few moments, before speaking again. "In what ways do you create your narrative?" he asked, looking at her with those all-knowing eyes of his.

"What do you mean?" answered Brienne, confused.

"I mean," said Aemon patiently, "in what ways do you construct your personal narrative? What made you tell yourself that story?"

The answer was surprisingly simple.

"Negative experiences, I suppose," said Brienne, shrugging. She did not need to elaborate; Aemon knew all about Hyle and Connington and Humfrey and... "They shaped me."

"Then maybe you should try and create some positive experiences that could help you write a different narrative."

Given the support she had back at home from Jaime, Brienne had to admit she was intrigued. "Like what?"

"You should think about it," said Aemon, resting his hands in his lap. "This week, I want you to continue with the verbal and written exercises I have given you, but I also want you to do something for yourself that will make you feel special and beautiful. If you are struggling for ideas, maybe you should talk to someone who already sees you in that way."

"Like who?"

Aemon smiled at her fondly. "Well, Jaime would be a good start, don't you think?"

As Brienne expected, Jaime was full of ideas, which he was only too happy to tell her all about when they were snuggled up in bed together that evening. Resting her head in the crook of his neck, Brienne enjoyed the humming vibrations of his chest as he spoke, rambling on and on about different ideas he had to make Brienne feel good.

"You could go get a massage? I hear they do a good pregnancy massage down at the Rhaenyra Spa. I think I got a yearlong membership with them, so you are always welcome to use my card."

"I think a massage might make me feel awkward," she admitted sheepishly, worrying Jaime might think her foolish. "Someone else's hands all over me will make me feel too self-conscious." To her surprise, he did not balk at her, but just kept running the fingers of his left hand through her hair, and she squeezed his broken right in gratitude. Evidently, she no longer had any problems about _him_ having his hands all over her.

She almost became lost in his smile.

"Okay, no massage," Jaime concurred, as he began to chew at his bottom lip in thought. "What about going to the sauna? I know there is one up by Aegon's High Hill..."

She could not help but laugh at the mental image that suggestion conjured. "Oh yes. Can you imagine me, Big Pregnant Brienne, wandering into a sauna? I think it would just make me feel hot, bothered, and embarrassed rather than beautiful."

"You _are_ beautiful," said Jaime, his tone suddenly a little sad, tilting his head so he could kiss her cheek. "And if you could only look through my eyes, you would see it."

Brienne kissed him back and momentarily believed what he was saying. If someone as wonderful as Jaime Lannister loved her, she had to be beautiful... surely? He treated her reverently, that was for certain; it was evident by the way in which he moulded his lips to hers, running his hand through her hair as he did so. She was just about to leap into the feeling - of being beautiful while lost in her love - when Jaime suddenly pulled away, looking excitable.

"Oh, I've got it!"

"Got what?" Brienne asked, confusedly.

"I've got what you could do to rewrite your narrative!" When Brienne continued to look at him in bafflement, Jaime's smile grew even bigger. "A photoshoot."

Brienne pulled a face. "You already did one of them for me when I was less pregnant..."

"And you looked lovely," interjected Jaime, clearly wanting to cut her off before she said something self-deprecating, "but this time you are going to look like the beautiful, sensual goddess you are."

"Is this going to be a _paint me like one of your French girls_ moment?" asked Brienne teasingly, remembering the photos Jaime had taken of Cersei that had simultaneously made his name and broken the internet. Slim, sexy Cersei had been laid out on the sofa in Jaime's studio, naked as her nameday, looking over her shoulder in such a sultry fashion that half the men in King's Landing had instantly fallen in love with her.

Perhaps sensing what she was thinking, Jaime began to gently run the tips of his fingers over her lips. It was such a loving caress that it stopped her cynicism in its tracks. "I know that you think I am going to dress you up like Cersei - a sexy, ostentatious object - but I promise that I will not. When I was with her, I saw so much value in her beauty that I fetishized it and made it and her into something that the camera worshipped... that _I_ worshipped."

There was something sad in that, so Brienne kissed his fingertips. He smiled. "But I don't need to turn you into an object for others to see your worth. You just need to put on whatever you feel comfortable in and the camera will capture it in an instant. It shines from you."

"Do you honestly believe that?" asked Brienne, struggling with that poetically delivered concept.

Jaime moved his hand so he could lean in and kiss her. When they broke apart, he looked at her dreamily. "Of course I do. And I promise I will make you see it too, I promise."

Given the stars in his eyes, Brienne could do little else but agree.

* * *

As Jaime had rearranged much of his photography schedule around Brienne, the following day was free in his calendar, so he played the artiste and booked out most of the day to do the shoot. Nevertheless, Jaime said they had to start early so they could capture the best light. In order to best inhabit the roles of photographer and muse, they made their way to the studio separately, so when Brienne arrived at Jaime's studio the following morning she was entirely alone. Unlike the first time Jaime had taken her photos for her online dating profile, Brienne did not wear dungarees. Instead, she put on a long maternity dress in a sapphire blue, which clung to her shape and made her feel womanly, at least. The pregnancy had given her curves where she had previously had none, so she wanted to make the most of them on this occasion.

As she made her way to the lift that would take her up to Jaime's studio, Brienne was thankful that he had taken down the pictures of Cersei from the lobby that had made him so famous. Although Brienne wanted to believe that Jaime saw beauty in her, she was glad that her competitor no longer lined the walls. It would only make her inadequate and surely that would show on her face.

Jaime was waiting for her upstairs getting everything ready. Ever since he had injured his hand, Brienne knew that he found it a lot harder to use his equipment, so was aware that she would have to be as patient with him as he was with her. To her surprise, however, Jaime showed no sign of anxiety when she entered the room, as he greeted her with a familiar sunny smile.

"Wench," he said, putting down his camera before bounding over to her. "I'm so glad you are here and have agreed to this stupid idea of mine."

Without letting her reply, Jaime pulled Brienne into a tight embrace which she returned at once. She wanted to grip hold onto him because she was feeling nervous.

"It's a good idea," she said when they finally ended the embrace. "Is my dress suitable?"

He looked her up and down in one unsubtle roll of the eye, before grinning broadly. "Perfect. The colour suits you; it brings out your eyes."

That simple phrase contained so much. It was what he had said to her last time he had taken her photos, as well as the line her favourite character from her favourite film used to woo his lady love. It made Brienne smile.

"Do you want me to sit on the chaise longue?"

"However you would feel comfortable," Jaime replied, caressing her cheek with the back of his hand. "I will just be a moment. I need to get my camera."

After that small, intimate gesture, finally gave the confidence to do what Cersei had done so long ago, Brienne walked over to the chaise longue and laid down, readying herself. By the time Jaime was back with the camera, Brienne was lying back trying to feel comfortable with herself and her physicality. She rested her hand on her belly, trying to remind herself of the miraculous thing her body was now doing.

 _This is my story to write,_ she thought. _I will tell it how I want. I will tell myself I am beautiful._

Yet if she was the author, Jaime was the reader, so Brienne was gratified to find he was gazing at her with such affection that she felt her skin prickle.

"How do you feel?" he asked as he raised his camera. "Are you ready?"

"Always," she said.

 _For you,_ she thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. As ever, I would love to hear from you (especially in relation to Jaime and Brienne's relationship. Does it work for you?)
> 
> And thank you to Novemberkind1990 for the idea of the pregnancy photoshoot! There will be more on this from Jaime's perspective next time...


	44. Part XLIV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the photoshoot, Brienne sees herself in a whole new light...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, urgh, I am sorry this has not updated for ever. I have had some major stresses in my personal life and the exchange fic, so I decided to take a little break. I am now back, however! This chapter is NSFW (!!) and I hope you enjoy!

The photoshoot took several hours, as Jaime wanted Brienne in different positions in the studio; on the chaise longue, on the floor, by the window. Although she understood he was trying to be artistic, every time Jaime asked her to move to a new pose, Brienne would blush doubtfully.

"Are you sure?"

He would smile at her gently. "Of course. The light will catch your eyes differently here."

Choosing to trust him, Brienne let Jaime move her from tableau to tableau, making careful comments about how _good_ and _perfect_ and _wonderful_ she looked. Putting herself in his care, Brienne allowed Jaime to mould her as if he was an old master carefully sculpting something beautiful out of nothing. She was the willing clay, and let him smooth her unworked flesh into a mannerless art, conscious of his skill.

The last few photos were taken while Brienne sat on the chaise longue. When she had first arrived in the room, Jaime had her lay down as if she was the beautiful, voluptuous muse of an artist from an ancient painting, who the viewer was meant to ravage with their eyes. This time, however, she was sitting upright. Staring into the camera, she kept both hands resting on her belly, not quite sure what to do with them. Nevertheless, Jaime kept saying encouraging things, which made her believe she was doing well.

"The camera loves you, wench," he purred, as another flash of light burst across the room. "Every part of you that you think is ugly and oversized, it sees as majestic and architectural. And the camera never lies."

Brienne gave him a sad smile. She had gone through years of people who cared for her trying to find sweet words for the ugliness that she thought was obvious. Although it came from places of kindness, they still often felt like saccharine lies.

"I would rather be pretty."

"Why?" Jaime asked, before taking another photo. "Pretty is small and delicate and saccharine. You are magnificent, like the Sept of Baelor."

Brienne snorted. "The Sept of Baelor?"

"I said what I said," replied Jaime teasingly. "You are tremendous, wench, a sheer force of nature. An architectural triumph. You will always be strong and resolute, whereas pretty will fade. Let me show you how true that is."

He signalled back towards his camera, indicating that Brienne should stop looking at him and gaze once more into the lens. Wanting to try to be _majestic_ and _architectural_ and _tremendous_ and every other thing Jaime saw her as, Brienne did what he suggested, but not before reaching out to scoop up the strap that had fallen down her shoulder.

"No, leave it there," ordered Jaime suddenly.

Brienne narrowed her eyes at him. "Why?"

He swallowed heavily. "It's erotic."

"It is?"

"Very," Jaime said, lifting his camera to capture her surprised expression. "It makes me imagine what is under your clothes and think about taking them off the second we get home. Leaving your strap like that... it highlights your sensuality."

Once again, Brienne obeyed, but not without a blush crimsoning her cheeks.

"And that is also very sexy," smirked Jaime.

"What is?"

"Your blush," he grinned. "It starts at your cheeks and goes down your neck... who knows where it ends?"

That risqué little statement made Brienne go from crimson to maroon.

Jaime laughed at her skittishness, then went to say something to that put her even more on edge. "My camera loves your blush, wench, and so do I, so I might have to keep saying scandalous things."

Given the way that Jaime was smiling at her over the top of his camera, Brienne continued to blush for the rest of the photoshoot. She did not really stop until Jaime had put away his equipment then came over, sat down beside her, scooped up her strap, and kissed her on her forehead.

"I've got loads of good pictures, wench."

"You have?"

"Yes, don't look surprised. You looked beautiful. I'll show you when we get home, if you want."

Feeling a little nervous, Brienne nevertheless nodded. "Maybe if I am brave enough, I could hang a nice one in our lounge... if I like it."

"Well, I am putting up the best ones up in the lobby of my studio, no questions asked."

Brienne immediately felt a little sick. _Cersei's_ photos had previously hung on those walls, the very same photos that had once broken the internet and had legions of her fans screaming how beautiful, wonderful, and irresistible she was. While Brienne was trying to change her narrative, she was not naive enough to ever think her photos could ever compete.

Evidently seeing some of her doubt in her expression, Jaime clicked his tongue. "You don't have to be Cersei Marbrand to look great hanging on the wall."

Brienne nodded, trying but struggling to believe him. "Of course, I know that..."

"Good," he grinned. "Because believe me, when we get home I will show you all the ways in which you can absolutely be a work of art."

"Really?" she asked, disbelievingly.

"Really," he laughed, all sincerity and joy, "but first... let me put away my equipment, then let me take you out to lunch. There's a really cool Tyroshi place over by the Waterfront. I took the liberty of booking a table for us for one, if you are interested."

Brienne eyed him suspiciously. "Are you talking about _Archon_?"

"Yes," replied Jaime, glittering with pride.

Her mouth became a moue. _Archon_ was an incredibly expensive restaurant frequented by actresses, sports stars, socialites, and influencers, people decidedly of Jaime's milieu but _not_ of Brienne's. She could only imagine what would happen if she turned up there on Jaime's arm; the gossip mill would go into an overdrive as B-list busybodies tried to work out why Jaime wasn't in Dorne or wherever with Cersei, and why he was taking some heavily pregnant nobody to one of the most expensive restaurants in King's Landing. Therefore, although Jaime was smiling at her hopefully, Brienne had to reject his offer.

She shook her head. "I'm sorry. I can't."

His face fell. "Why not?"

"Because... because..." she began, rooting around for the best way to explain, even as the hurt bloomed on his face. "If we went there, it couldn't be construed as two friends just hanging out having lunch together. It would be a _statement,_ Jaime, and I'm not sure we are ready for that yet."

"I am," he announced, putting his camera down and coming to sit next to her. As easy as breathing, Brienne found herself wrapping her arms around him. "I want to tell the world about us, and fuck what Cersei or my father have to say about it."

He was gazing at her so sweetly that Brienne was loath to quash his enthusiasm, but she knew she had to. "Jaime, what your father and Cersei think matters, at least until we know what is going on with Alys."

"We _know_ what is going on with Alys," said Jaime petulantly. "You are her mother, and we are going to get that officially recognised."

"We can't let anyone know that though, least of all not Cersei and your father. And if we go to _Archon,_ everyone will see us, questions will be asked, and things will be out of our control before we can do anything about it. So, while I would love to go to lunch with you, I'm not sure there would be the best place. Everyone would see."

Jaime looked at her for a few moments, his eyes full of disappointment, but it eventually changed to resignation as he nodded. "You are right, wench. I know you are right, it's just... I want this charade with Cersei to end. I want the world to know about you and me, about the family we are going to have together."

"I know," she said sadly, leaning in and pecking him on the cheek. "We've just got to wait until Josmyn and Podrick give us the go ahead, that's all, and then I will be one hundred percent behind you in letting you take me to _Archon_ and whichever other pretentious restaurants you like, okay?"

He nodded, still looking a little sad. "Okay... but will you at least let me take you to an _unpretentious_ restaurant for lunch?"

"Of course," she replied, squeezing him a little more tightly so he knew this was not about him but the situation they found themselves in. "I know a place over in Flea Bottom where you can get a burger and a drink for a fiver. Is that unpretentious enough for you?"

As it turned out, it was. So, once Jaime had packed up his equipment, they headed over to Flea Bottom and got the greasiest burger and fries in the city. The restaurant had a nice beer garden where the two of them spent most of the afternoon sitting in the sunshine, talking about nothing in particular. As they were in a place where it did not matter who they were, nobody cared when Jaime put an arm around her, or when Brienne kissed him on the cheek. Nobody cared that they shared their chips, or that they watched the sun set together. Brienne found the whole thing strangely liberating.

It was not quite as freeing as what happened when they returned to Jaime's flat, however. Jaime went straight to the kitchen and made them both a cup of tea, while Brienne waddled to their shared bedroom and changed into her nightdress, before burrowing under the blankets of their bed. It seemed to be a good choice, because when Jaime came into the room, a smile so affectionate and sweet lit his face that Brienne instantly held her arms open for him.

She needed him close. He grinned.

Once the tea was deposited on the bedside cabinet, Jaime jumped on the bed and threw himself into her embrace. A lump bloomed in her throat. She never thought such a beautiful thing would honestly be hers, so to have Jaime in her arms was almost too much.

"I've had such a great day, Brienne," he said, resting his head on her shoulder.

Brienne smiled and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "So did I, which is weird considering that you were making me the centre of attention with the photoshoot."

"You loved it really," said Jaime teasingly. "And Aemon would be so proud of you."

She could not hold back her grin at that statement. "He would, wouldn't he?"

"Definitely," replied Jaime, before looking up to give her a quick peck on the lips. "Would you like to see the photos? I've got them on my laptop?"

Brienne's previous nervousness began to bubble in the pit of her stomach once more but, determined to be brave, she nodded. "Yes although... can you get into your pyjamas first? I would like to get comfortable before we have a look."

Jaime obeyed her for the most part. While he did fire up the photos on the laptop, he did not bother changing into his pyjamas, and instead just climbed into bed beside her totally naked. Having him so near, Brienne was unable to prevent herself pulling him close, resting her head on his shoulder, and running her hand through his chest hair. Jaime sighed happily.

"So, let's see what we've got here," said Jaime as he opened up his photography programme.

Before he had time to say anymore, Brienne was suddenly bombarded with the photos he had taken of her. She gasped. There was something about the soft lights in the studio that seemed to make the woman in front of her - a woman she hardly recognised - glow. As Jaime scrolled through the images, Brienne was shellshocked by the way in which different shades of blonde were highlighted in her hair, her eyes shone, and how happy she looked. That woman was so unlike herself that Brienne felt the tears well.

"See this one, wench," he said, flicking to a photo in which Brienne was sitting on the chaise longue, the strap of her dress falling down her shoulder. "I told you it looked erotic."

"You are so talented, Jaime," she marvelled, amazed that he could make her, plain Brienne Tarth, look so good. "You should seriously get some sort of photography prize for making _me_ look like _this."_

Jaime let out a disgusted huffing sound and then tilted her chin up to look at him. "This is how you look Brienne. I haven't photoshopped you. I haven't altered you in anyway. I just sat you under some decent lighting and took a photo. This is all you, every single inch, and I promise you this is what I see every time I look at you. These photos _are_ you."

Gazing into Jaime's verdant eyes, Brienne considered that statement for a moment.

"They are me, aren't they?" she said tentatively.

Jaime broke into a joyous grin. "Yes, they are _you_ , wench. My wonderful, beautiful, wench."

Given his ardent expression, Brienne did not see the moment when Jaime shut the laptop and put it on the bedside cabinet, as she was suddenly too busy pulling her nightshirt over her head so he could kiss her breasts. Knotting her fingers in his hair, she moaned loudly as he swirled his tongue around each of her nipples in turn until they pebbled with arousal. As her legs fell open in want, Brienne could not help but marvel at how quickly she and Jaime moved from polite conversation to intimacy now.

"Jaime. Oh... sweetheart..."

As his hand dropped between her legs, Jaime came and laid by her side, causing her to roll to one side to accommodate him. Evidently excited, he gently traced his fingers through her pubic hair and then lower, moving in ever more teasing circles. Every stroke made Brienne feel more relaxed, so she closed her eyes and gave into the sensation. She knew she should allow herself to enjoy the pleasure the man she loved gave her, so was determined to try.

"Do you like that?" murmured Jaime, his breath hot against her cheek.

"Yes," she said honestly, opening eyes to gaze at him. Jaime really was wondrous, after all. He looked so proud of himself that she could not help smiling at him. "Just... just..."

Too embarrassed to vocalise what she wanted, Brienne shuffled her thighs apart in a wordless attempt to express her desires. Jaime's grin grew brighter. "Oh, is that what you want?"

"Yes," she said breathlessly, as he began to slide his fingers between her folds. "Yes, gods, yes..."

"How does that feel?" he asked, looking immensely pleased with himself.

A moan escaped Brienne's lips, entirely out of her control. "So good, Jaime. Please... _more..."_

"Well, I might not give it to you just yet," he replied. His voice was husky with desire as his fingers danced across the soft, sensitive skin of her inner thighs. "I might take my time, really work you up until you don't know what to do with yourself."

Being as inexperienced as she was, Brienne was not sure she was ready for such games, so she reached over and cupped his cheek, wanting to be as careful as possible with the intimate space they were slowly carving out together. She was scared if she pushed back too hard, everything would shatter.

"Can you kiss me, Jaime?" she asked, being as brave as she could. "As you touch me?"

To her surprise, Jaime did not respond with a yes or a no, but just leant across and planted a kiss on her lips. Shocked at his lack of hesitation, Brienne went slack-jawed, allowing him to dart his tongue between her teeth and lick at the inside of her mouth. It really was an incredible feeling, especially when she responded, tangling her tongue with his before chasing him back into his mouth. As Jaime kissed her, the roughness of his stubble prickled against her chin and above her lips, and it would have been an overwhelming sensation if it was not for the fire he was stoking in between her legs. Not knowing how to cope with it, she made muffled moans into his mouth as he kept stroking her, as she grew increasingly conscious of the fact he was growing hard against her arse.

Although she and Jaime had been fooling around together for a little while now, it had mostly been in a limited way that she had controlled. While she would allow him to bury his face between her thighs and eat her out until she was screaming, she had not yet found the courage to take his hard and wanting cock into her mouth. Neither had she let him inside her but, given how much she was aching for him and how desperately empty she felt without him in that moment, Brienne thought that was soon going to change.

Reaching backwards with one hand, Brienne took hold of his cock with tentative fingers. Jaime let out a little gasp of surprise.

"Jaime?"

"Uhhh... yeah?" he breathed, the hot air hitting the nape of her neck.

"Would you like me to... um... I mean..."

"Yes, wench?"

She could barely look at him. "Would you like me suck you off?"

Jaime stopped moving his fingers. "What?"

"You heard me," she said again, quickly, "would you like me to suck you off?"

Jaime stared at her for a few seconds, clearly evaluating what she was saying. After his period of contemplation had ended, however, he just fixed her with a gentle smile. "While that sounds very nice, I'd rather this evening be about your pleasure."

"But it is always about my pleasure!" she said, startled.

His grin broadened teasingly. "What can I say? I'm a generous and giving lover. I want to do nice things for you."

"What nice things?" Brienne replied, her voice turning huskier at the prospect of all the sinful things she and Jaime could do in the safety of their bedroom.

"Well," he began slowly, resting his chin on her shoulder. "Lay on your back for me and I'll show you."

Trusting him completely, Brienne did what he asked of her, even though it took some time to shuffle over with her belly. Once in position, she then gazed up at him in wonder as he leant over to the bedside cabinet and pulled out a small jar of unfamiliar liquid.

"What is that?" Brienne asked. She tried to keep the nerves out of her voice, but it was near impossible.

Jaime gave her a serene smile. "Lube. It's no pressure, but I thought if you ever wanted to try penetrative sex, it might make things more comfortable for you the first time. If not, don't worry, I'll just make you come with my tongue."

Brienne blushed as Jaime came to lie beside her once more, balancing the pot of lube on her belly as he did so. That made her laugh, but she was quieted when Jaime began to kiss her face, so tenderly it felt like spring rain.

"Jaime."

"Mmm?" he replied, seemingly determined to kiss every freckle on her face.

"I... I... want you inside me. I want to try."

"You do?" Jaime asked excitedly, his eyes brightening, "because I promise you don't have to. We can just have fun rubbing lube on each other, or just cuddling, whatever you want. I will take anything you are willing to give me, honestly."

That statement nearly broke Brienne's heart. She could just imagine the way in which Cersei had kept him dangling, using physical intimacy as a bribe or as a reward. Although she was a little nervous, Brienne did trust him, and never wanted to make him feel as if he had to beg for the tiniest scraps of affection. Consequently, she leant forward and pressed her lips to his, using her body to convey the feelings that were almost too big for words.

"It would be you that is giving to me," she said, emotions pressing and welling in her throat. "I want you inside me because I want to feel close to you. I want you to know how much I love you."

In response to her honesty, Jaime kissed her passionately, catching Brienne by surprise. "Oh wench, why are you so good? Why are you so...?"

Jaime words vanished in the wave of kisses that followed; hot and searching and hungry. Trying to find some way to respond to this overwhelming fire that was washing over her, Brienne reached up and buried her hands in Jaime's hair, taking all her frustration with the way he was teasing her on his perfect blond curls. Once it was well and truly mussed up, Jaime pulled back from the kisses and smiled at her like a wolf with red roses in his mouth.

"Wench, open the lube for me, and I'll put it in you," he whispered, and Brienne found herself obeying at once. All the fears that she had built up like a wall around her heart, brick by brick, were now tumbling down around her. The second it was open, Jaime scooped some lube onto the tips of his fingers and began to apply it where Brienne was most sensitive, sliding over her most fevered flesh before using just one digit to slip inside her. Brienne moaned.

"Fuck, I _love_ you, wench," Jaime murmured, his fingers setting her on fire as he began to move in and out of her. "So much. You look so sexy like this, taking it... taking me... and you are all mine, I know it."

"I love you too," she replied, reaching her hand to the pot and scooping up some lube. Moving the circle into the centre of her palm, she reached across and began to stroke his cock. His skin was surprisingly silky to touch as she measured his hardness, firm in her hand. Jaime let out a keening whine as she stroked him, before resting his head on her chest, overcome.

"Brienne," he moaned. "Brienne."

As she and Jaime continued to touch each other - her whimpering with desire, him muttering _oh gods yes_ under his breath - he tilted his head up so he could look into her eyes. Unable to resist, Brienne leant down to kiss him. Jaime smiled.

"I love it when you kiss me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you care. Like you love me."

With that admission from him - full of what their newfound intimacy really meant - Brienne finally knew she could not keep Jaime away any more so, after taking the pot of lube off her stomach and putting on the side, she rolled over and looked back at him expectantly.

"I want you inside me, Jaime. Please."

He did not wait for her to ask again. Moving slowly, Jaime took hold of his cock and carefully slid inside her. Brienne experienced a moment of discomfort - in the newness of no longer being empty - but it passed quickly. Being so near to the edge herself, she was just happy Jaime was here with her, as close as she could ever let another person.

"You are so warm," mumbled Jaime, scooping one arm around her front to squeeze her breasts, and the other up and under his pillow until his fingers hovered above her forehead. "Can I touch your face? You can say no, you don't have to..."

"Touch my face, Jaime, please. I want to feel you."

He smiled so happily as he began to move his fingers between her skin and her hair that Brienne almost cried. Had Cersei denied him these small intimacies? Had she pushed him away even as he unlocked his chest and held out his heart for her, just as he was doing for Brienne now? It felt so wonderful to be opened up by him, stretched and filled and made to feel loved, that she did not know how it was possible to be so cold to him. Jaime wrapped his arms around her in a gentle embrace, holding her close as he drove into her again and again and again. It was euphoric. Brienne felt herself being lost to the rhythm of it, of him and her, of being together in the way she had longed for since the moment she first met him.

"Oh, Jaime," she moaned, closing her eyes and surrendering. "Yes... please... _please..._ "

His hips snapped against her buttocks as he advanced inside her, before retreating, over and over again. "I love you. I love you. I love--"

"I love you too," she admitted easily, as she gave herself to him, body and soul. "Oh! So much!"

"Look at me," he rasped, as he pumped in and out of her, his thrusts becoming more violent and erratic with every beat of her heart. "Look at me, Brienne!"

Turning her head to peer over her shoulder, Brienne looked into Jaime's green gaze which was almost glazed over from pleasure. The second his eyes met hers, he let out a whine and started thrusting into her faster and faster, his every pounding movement accompanied by an animalistic groan. She stared at him, awestruck, as his passion seemed to build and build, his face reddening with his ardour and his eyes burning until, suddenly, his whole body tensed, and she felt a hot jet burst inside her. It was as if he was passing part of himself, his energy, to her before he slumped against her back, exhausted and boneless, having given her everything he had.

As Jaime closed him eyes, Brienne could do nothing but laugh; breathless and wild and full of joy.

"Oh Jaime," she grinned, tilting her head so she could kiss the corner of his mouth. "That was wonderful. You felt so close."

"If you think that felt close, I can't wait until Alys is born so we can do missionary," Jaime hummed, resting his cheek against the blade of her shoulder. "I want to look into your eyes as we fuck, and watch you fall apart as you come around my cock."

Although still travelling down from her own high, Jaime's words had a way of warming her up again. She smiled, losing herself in this new fantasy.

"That sounds nice."

He sighed happily. "It does, doesn't it?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, they finally did it!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! As ever, I would love to hear what you think in a comment or kudo!


	45. Part XLV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime talks to Aemon and makes a decision about his future...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, my other fics are not quite playing ball at the moment, so I thought I would update this one. I know you have all been enjoying the cosy intimacy of the last few chapters, but finally the plot is making its appearance again. I hope you enjoy!

Normally when Jaime went to see Doctor Aemon, it was to talk about difficult things; his relationship with his father, his past with Cersei, his fractious break with Tyrion. All these sensitive topics would usually leave Jaime feeling a bit heartsore by the end of the session, and the only thing that would make him feel better was going home and letting Brienne hug him and tell him how lovely he was.

Yet during his most recent meeting with Doctor Aemon, Jaime was positively bursting with happiness, because he was talking about Brienne.

"It is all going so well," said Jaime, unable to keep the sunny smile off his face. "I never thought it would happen, but somehow she and I are a proper couple, Aemon. We spend all our time together, we make each other happy, and we've even... I mean she's probably going to be embarrassed that I said this, but I've got to say it... we've started having _sex_ and I've never felt closer to anybody in my whole life. Bless Brienne, she is so nervous, but I am trying my best to make her comfortable with all this. She just makes me so happy that I just want to do the same for her in return."

Aemon smiled at him warmly. "That's wonderful to hear, Jaime."

"It's wonderful to experience," confirmed Jaime, letting out a joyful little sigh. "I never thought I would be this happy... I never thought it was even _possible_ for a person to feel like this."

"The early stages of being in love are quite thrilling."

"They are," Jaime agreed. "I thought I experienced it a little with Melara, and then again with Cersei... but those times were nothing like this. And this is Brienne's first time experiencing being in love, and I just want her to feel comfortable with it and as happy as me. I know she can be a little anxious sometimes, and I just want to relieve her burdens."

Aemon considered Jaime's statement for a moment, before taking a sip of his tea. "And in what ways have you been reassuring her?"

"Sweet words, kind touches," he said with a shrug. "Brienne is worried about physical intimacy, so I have to try and soothe her that I love her and her body. I'm happy to do it, because it is nothing but the truth, but I hope in time she will be able to believe me without the need for words."

The therapist considered him for a moment. "That is very good of you, Jaime."

"I don't think it is," replied Jaime quickly. "I just want to lessen her anxieties, and if being gentle is what it takes, that is what I will do."

"Is that all Brienne worries about? Her body worries, I mean."

Jaime narrowed his eyes. "Why? Has she said something to you in her sessions?"

Aemon smiled at him in wry amusement. "You know I am not allowed to discuss with you anything that Brienne has mentioned in her sessions. No, my question comes from what _you_ have told me. In the past, you were worried about Brienne's status after the birth. Has that changed? Have you set in stone how she will be involved?"

"She won't just be _involved,_ Aemon. She's Alys' mother."

"Yes," concurred the therapist slowly, "that is no doubt the emotional truth, but is it the bureaucratic one? How is it coming on with the lawyers and the paperwork?"

Having spent the last few minutes bathing in soft, warm thoughts of Brienne, the sudden intrusion of real life made him feel as if he had just been pushed out of a toasty log cabin into the middle of winter. The snow billowed around him and he began to freeze.

"Not well," he said stiffly. "I've talked to my solicitors, and they told me there are only two ways round the declarations that Brienne signed. The first is having Cersei agree to Brienne legally adopting Alys after the birth, which won't happen in a million years, and the second is that if there was something off with the implantation process that contravenes the documentation Brienne signed, it gives something for the lawyers to hold onto when trying to assert Brienne's claims to motherhood."

"Have you got anywhere with that option?"

Jaime shook his head. "No. I've tried phoning Doctor Qyburn's practice numerous times, but his secretary has told me he is on an extended holiday to Sothoryos and is basically uncontactable. He's apparently returning within the month, but that is not really helpful to me. Alys will probably already be here by then."

Aemon ran his fingers through his beard, signifying that he was deep in thought. "Are you sure they are your only options?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, from where I am sitting it seems those two options depend on either the good will of people you know are ill-intentioned or hanging onto hope that Doctor Qyburn did not do what was required of him per his job description. Both seem distant hopes to me."

"Then what shall I do?" asked Jaime, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. "Brienne _is_ Alys' mother, and I won't have our daughter surrendered to Cersei without a fight."

"Then _fight,_ " urged Aemon. "Talk to Brienne. I am sure she does not want to pin all her hopes for her future on Cersei and Doctor Qyburn either. Between the two of you, discuss a way forward."

While he thought Aemon's advice was admirable, Jaime knew that he had severely underestimated how quickly Cersei would arraign her armies against him. She burned like wildlife - hot and burning and bright - and would descend on them both with the wrath of the gods.

"But Cersei..."

"Can perhaps be managed if you work out how to approach this in a rational and calm way. What you must remember, Jaime, is that we all only get one life, and this is your chance to live it. You could talk to your father and set clear boundaries as to how you want him to be involved in your life. You already did the hard work by telling Tyrion the truth, what is one more step?"

"But what if he takes Cersei's side? What if...?"

"I am not saying it is going to be easy," said Aemon levelly, putting his tea down on the side, "but you have come so far, and now have the support of a woman who truly loves and cares for you. If you want to try and resolve this issue diplomatically, rather than cutting through the knot with a sword, talking to your father and Cersei is a definite possibility. You and Brienne just need to make sure you fight your battle from the right terrain."

* * *

Jaime had never thought himself a battle commander before but on his journey home from Aemon's, he could not help but think of all the ways to strategically deal with his father and Cersei. Aemon was right, it _was_ wishful thinking imagining that some slip up of Qyburn's would save the day. It was much more likely that they would all have to sit down and talk this out like adults, at least until his father and Cersei came around to his way of thinking.

Yet most of his thoughts about his current predicament were washed away when he returned to the flat and discovered Brienne sitting on the sofa in her maternity dungarees, her eyes glistening with tears because she was watching a romantic film on the television. She barely had time to say hello before Jaime had charged across the room and bundled her into his arms.

"Hello, you," Brienne chuckled affectionately, her mouth somewhat smushed against his shoulder.

"Hello," Jaime replied, placing a series of kisses on her cheeks, nose, and forehead that made Brienne giggle even more. "How are you?"

"Fine. I'm just watching _Brave Danny Flint._ It always makes me teary. How are you? How was your session with Aemon?"

"Fine," Jaime parroted back, trying to sound tough. However, when she gave him a searching look, Jaime crumbled at once. "Well, not necessarily _fine._ I was talking to Aemon about how I can make you feel more secure about our relationship in general and... the issue of Cersei and my father came up."

Brienne sat up sharply, nearly headbutting Jaime as she did so. "Oh. What did you talk about?"

Jaime sighed and squeezed her tighter. He found it comforting. "Just that the options the lawyers gave us seem a little bit like wishful thinking, and if we really want to get things to go our way, we will have to fight... but pick our battles well."

The mention of fighting and battles made Brienne scrunch up her brow in worry. Unable to stop himself, Jaime planted a quick kiss on her lips to soothe her. "What does he mean by battles?" asked Brienne, her eyes big and blue.

"Only that the most feasible route forward is possibly talking to my father and Cersei face to face about this whole issue, rather than just hoping against all hope that Qyburn did something slightly fishy during the implantation process. Yes, convincing the both of them may be hard, but then at least it is us being the proactive ones. We can get them on the back foot."

In response to Jaime's fighting talk, Brienne rested her hand on his chest and looked deep into his eyes. "I just don't want you to get hurt."

"I won't," he replied. "Especially if we plan now and try to be clever about this. Admittedly, we don't have long - just under a month - but having listened to Aemon, I am starting to see that the legal routes are not looking particularly helpful at the moment."

The expression on Brienne's face was one of such sadness and worry that Jaime wanted to draw her into his arms for comfort and never let go. He knew he would never let anyone hurt her for as long as there was breath in his body.

"We could do with a bit more time," she said softly.

"Yes," he replied. "We could."

"Maybe I'll just keep my legs closed a little longer until we come up with a plan," said Brienne, totally oblivious to the fact she had just said something totally risqué.

Jaime pouted at her. "What? Even to me?"

Brienne blushed so brilliantly that Jaime couldn't help but smile. "You know what I..." she began, flustered. "Stop laughing!"

"No, wench, I won't, because now I'm worried that you won't let me between those lovely long legs of yours because you are scared of my father," grinned Jaime, shuffling closer so he could put an arm around her shoulders. "You will, won't you?"

Brienne pulled a teasing expression. "Maybe..."

"Please," he said, making his voice breathy and husky in the way it was when they were in bed together. "There's no better place in the world than between your thighs, as I can just lose myself in you... and forget everything other than you and your pleasure."

Her blush grew deeper and deeper with every word but, to his immense relief she did not push him away. Instead, Brienne smiled at him teasingly.

"Will you take me to bed, Jaime?" she asked, her eyes growing heavy-lidded. He could see how she sensed the desire in the air. "If you do, I might let you between my thighs. I quite like it when you are there too."

He told her _yes_ with a kiss.

* * *

Jaime rose early the following morning before the sun had risen. Brienne was still asleep, her legs entangled with his, her fair eyelashes silver where they caught the light. Transfixed by the sight of her, Jaime stayed in bed for a few moments, just watching her. To him, there was no one more beautiful. Yes, she might have a crooked nose and be a little too solid to be called traditionally attractive, but behind those eyes was _Brienne_ so he could not help but adore her.

He laid by her side for a few more moments, just watching the gentle rise and fall of her bare chest and the outline of a little foot pushing against the skin of her belly. Marvelling at that miracle of nature, Jaime could not help but imagine what it would be like once Alys was born. He could hardly wait until Brienne could hold her, and he could wrap his arms around both of them, promising to protect them both until the day he died.

 _My family,_ he thought proudly. _My girls._

Yet the more Jaime dwelled on it, the more he realised that vision was not quite so idyllic. The second Alys was born, Cersei would come in demanding her rights as her mother, and his father would declare that the newest Lannister heir was to be named _Jeyne_ not _Alys._ Brienne would be shoved aside, right past the frame of the family photo until she was invisible if Jaime did not step in and protect her right now.

 _Aemon is right. It's no good to wait for Qyburn to phone back,_ he thought, _or to rely on Cersei's co-operation once Alys is born. If we want to be in control of our future, we need to act now. I need to do something, because Brienne needs reassurances that I am committed to her._

Thrumming with the impulse to act, Jaime pecked Brienne on the cheek before withdrawing from the bed. She made a grumbling noise but stayed asleep. Not wanting to disturb her, he quickly put on some pyjama bottoms and picked up his phone before retreating from the room, moving as quietly as he could. Once he had closed the bedroom door behind him, Jaime went over to the luxurious sofa in the lounge and sat down. The moment he was sure that Brienne hadn't followed him, he scrolled through the contacts on his phone until he located the person he wanted.

_Father._

Not wanting to talk himself out of the idea while it was fresh in his mind, Jaime instantly pressed the call button then brought the phone up to his ear.

In spite of his resolve, the dialling tone produced a bubble of fear at the pit of his stomach.

"You have reached Tywin Lannister. I am unable to take your call right now, but please leave a message after the tone."

_BEEP._

Jaime took a deep breath. It was now or never.

"Hello, father, it is Jaime calling. I see no point in beating about the bush, so I am just phoning to tell you that I will not be marrying Cersei and there is nothing you can do to persuade me otherwise. I have fallen in love with someone else, and I want to be with her, and continuing to lie to cover up your history with Tysha is not in anyone's best interest, especially my own. I don't care what Joanna knows, because I cannot continue to live this lie. I need to be in charge of my own life, and that means being with the woman I love... and she is _not_ Cersei."

He took a deep breath. At least the worst was over with.

"I am willing to work with you, Cersei, and Joanna to create a narrative for the paps that makes sense and doesn't do anyone's reputation any damage. Hells, if you want me to be the bad guy, I will be, because I don't care about that stuff anymore. I want Brienne and our baby and our life together, nothing more. And I know what you are going to say: _Tyrion._ I'm sorry to tell you that I have already informed him of my involvement with your Tysha ruse, and he is never going to speak to me again because of it. There is nothing more you can threaten me with. I will fight tooth and nail for the right to live my life how I want to, so you can either support me or get out of my way. I _want_ you to do the former, because you are my father, but if you can't... well, I will choose Brienne and Alys. Every time. Call me back when you've got this message."

Feeling as if he had said everything he needed to say, Jaime hung up the phone without another word.

Finally, he was taking control of his own life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. As ever, I would love to hear what you think - especially in relation to what Tywin and Cersei will do next!


	46. Part XLVI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After finding out that Jaime called his father and told him about their relationship, Brienne has to deal with what that means for their future...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Here is another chapter of "Baby Mama" (apparently it is inspiring me at the moment).
> 
> After this chapter, I am probably going to go and update my other fics (god, "The Blue Knight vs. The Kingslayer" and "A Big Cop in a Small Hotel" have not been updated in ages) but I hope you enjoy this little slice of drama!

When Brienne woke up that morning, she was surprised to find the Jaime was not in the bed beside her. Given that it was barely light, she ran her hand over the sheet in confusion, only to discover it was ice cold; it meant he had been up for some time.

"Jaime?" she said, wondering if he was in the ensuite.

No answer.

In all the time Brienne had known Jaime, he had never been one to wake early, so his absence made her feel a little apprehensive. She therefore decided to go and look for him. Getting out of the bed was difficult, given the late stage of her pregnancy, but managed to do so eventually by pulling herself up by the bed post. She then slipped on her dressing gown and waddled out into the rest of the flat in search of him. It did not take her long to locate him, as Jaime was in the kitchen frying up some eggs for breakfast.

"Morning, wench," he said. "I didn't think you would be up so early. Do you want me to put some eggs on?"

Nodding, Brienne went to sit down at the table. "I didn't think _you_ would be up so early either. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, fine," he replied, not quite meeting her eye as he went to turn the extractor fan on. "I just had a few things to do, so I thought I would get up and do them."

"What few things were those?"

Jaime seemed to mull on that question, before turning around to face her, a look of apprehension in his eye. "If I tell you, promise me you won't freak out."

"I'll only promise that if it is something worth not freaking out about," teased Brienne, even as her heart started to hammer nervously in her chest. Although she loved Jaime dearly, he had a tendency to be a little impulsive, and it often left her clinging on for the ride. She had to try to keep calm.

Ignoring the eggs, Jaime turned his attention fully onto Brienne. "I phoned my father this morning."

"About what?" she asked, as if Jaime hadn't just made an anxiety inducing confession.

"About us."

"Us?"

"Yes, _us,_ " repeated Jaime, as if saying the pronoun enough times would make it official. "I called him to tell him that I refuse to go along with his plan to get me married to Cersei anymore. I told him that I love _you,_ and I want to spend my life with you and our baby."

Brienne did not know how to react. She knew Jaime would have to tell Tywin the truth eventually - they couldn't exist in this weird happy limbo forever - but she had not thought it would be so soon. The due date was in a few weeks, and Brienne had been mentally concocting a plan involving a cute looking baby and preying on Tywin's latent fatherly instincts in order to win him over. Yet Jaime had clearly decided to take things into his own hands, and had made the path ahead suddenly reveal a sharp turn.

"Why did you do that?" she said snappishly. "I thought we had talked about this. We were going to wait at least until we had tried all legal avenues... Qyburn... and Podrick and Josmyn were going to..."

"We can't keep waiting for Qyburn to call us back. He's in Sothoryos for gods knows how long, and we only have _weeks_ in which to prepare," interrupted Jaime, his voice turning irritated as he began to pace up and down, abandoning the eggs entirely. "And as for Podrick and Josmyn, they've told us that the only way around the documentation you've signed is Qyburn's negligence or Cersei's good will. From where I am standing, neither sound very plausible. So if we want Alys, I think we are going to have to fight dirty."

Brienne furrowed her brow in worry. "Fight dirty? What does that mean?"

"If Cersei refuses to comply in letting you adopt Alys... well, we go for the jugular," he said, without a hint of remorse. "We take Cersei to court and try to get full custody; I'll bring up what she has done to me in the past if I have to, I don't care what people say about me. And as for my father... well, he'll eventually have to choose between his reputation and me. I doubt anything to do with Tysha can be prosecuted now, given it happened so many years ago, so I would like to think that he would support me... support us... And if it comes to down to it, I have to believe he would support me. He's my father, after all."

Although Jaime seemed firm in his conviction that fighting for Alys was all an achievable aim, Brienne had her doubts. She knew how it would look in the courts if Jaime started claiming that Cersei was the abusive one, as most people never took it seriously when it was a man who had been domestically abused. It would look ridiculous, and she did not want Jaime to be a laughing stock.

"Jaime, I don't think that was a very good idea..."

His expression turned stormy. "Why not? I imagine we've caught them by surprise, and now my father is going to have to work out what he wants... what he _really_ wants. At the very least, he is going to want to have some contact with his granddaughter, I'm sure of it... so he'll _have_ to pick me. I know he will."

"Jaime," said Brienne again, trying to work out the best way to phrase it. "I know that is how you want your father to behave but... I'm not sure that is what he will do. I don't think either Tywin or Cersei are going to be paper tigers, so maybe this was a bit foolhardy..."

At her sceptical statement, Jaime's mouth became a thin, hard line. "My father will put a Lannister first at the end of the day, he'll put _me_ first. I know it."

"Do you?" she snapped back. "Or is that just wishful thinking?"

Jaime folded his arms across his chest, suddenly a sulky, petulant boy. "You know, part of me thought you would be happy about this. I thought you would be pleased we no longer had to keep things secret."

"Sometimes secrets are worth the price!" Brienne shot back, suddenly feeling quite agitated with his puerile attitude. "We were going to take our time and work out what to do, not just dive in headfirst without thinking!"

He scoffed derisively. "But we don't have any time! The due day is weeks away, and if we don't act now, Cersei will have the upper hand and that will be bad for Alys, and bad for us."

"Well the least you could have done is talk to me!" countered Brienne. Quite against her best instincts, she felt a bubble of anger rise in the pit of her belly. Ever since she had known Jaime, he had always been running so far ahead of her that she had struggled to catch up - from the time they almost had halfway sex, to the occasion on which his poorly worded description of their relationship caused her father to punch him - and now it was just making her irritated. "I am half of this relationship too and you are always making decisions for the both of us that might leave us worse off!"

"This won't leave us worse off..."

"How do you know that?" she asked despairingly. "Every step of the way, your father and Cersei have been nothing but cruel and obstructive. Why are you being so naive that you think they will just give up now?"

"I _don't_ think they'll just give up."

"Then why did you just surrender all the cards we had? We could have used the element of surprise, we could have..."

"Done what?" snapped Jaime, his desperation palpable in his tone. "Qyburn is off in Sothoryos, and there is no way Cersei is just going to give up her rights to Alys. Unless we do something, she is just going to take our baby away from us... and she's going to..."

Brienne had known Jaime long enough now to realise when he was working himself up into a state, so she stepped forward to try and calm him down. "Jaime..."

"I had to do _something_ , Brienne. I couldn't just sit back and let Cersei take Alys away from me, away from _us._ "

"This wasn't the right way to do it..."

"Then what was the right way?" Jaime asked, his eyes flashing. "Is it to just sit back and let Cersei and my father walk all over me? Because after talking to Aemon, I realised I can't do it anymore. I won't be a victim."

"I'm not asking you to be!"

"Then what do you want from me?" Jaime inquired, his voice turning into a whine. "Because it sounds like you want me to just roll over and give in."

"I want you to _think!"_ cried Brienne. "I want you to listen to what Aemon told you about the merits of not jumping in headfirst without considering things and apply it to your life!"

"That's not... I..."

Before Jaime could object, he was suddenly distracted by the eggs, as the fire alarm starting ringing due to the toxic burning smell emanating from the pan. Stuck between her and real fire risk, Jaime had to return his attention to them. "Fuck," muttered Jaime, as he tried to turn the eggs off without getting himself covered in spitting oil. " _Fuck."_

"I'm going to have a shower," said Brienne, taking Jaime's distraction as an opportunity to escape. She did not want to give him another chance to start an argument, after all. "And then I might go out. I'll see you later."

Jaime turned to look at her, while still trying to save the eggs. "Brienne, wait..."

"Later," she said firmly. "We'll talk later."

* * *

After their confrontation - or was it a fully-fledged argument? She didn't know - Brienne went to have a shower, determined to wash away all her irritation. How could Jaime have confessed all to his father without consulting her? Although she had never met Tywin Lannister, she knew the man to be a monster from everything she had heard, so was not convinced laying all their cards out for their opponent to see was the best of ideas. In spite of her worry, however, there was a small voice in her ear that made her think otherwise.

 _At least it is not a secret anymore,_ it whispered. _At least you and Jaime can be together properly now, without having to keep it hidden from anyone._

Given how pregnant she was, Brienne found it a little difficult to get washed and dried all by herself, yet she refused to call Jaime for help as she normally would. She was still annoyed with him, after all, and needed some air. Consequently she took a lot longer than usual in getting ready, but once she was, she wasted no time in escaping the apartment. 

_I need to be alone,_ she thought. _I need to think._

Luckily for Brienne, there was a small park opposite Jaime's apartment block in which she could find a bench and watch the world go by. Jaime had not tried to stop her as she left - he was too wrapped up in his own anger for that - so it meant when she sat down, her mind was filled with thoughts of him.

_Why is he like this?_

_Why is he always incapable of seeing the bigger picture?_

_Why is he so impulsive?_

_Why is he always so hopeful his father will change?_

_And why do I love him for all those things, not in spite of them?_

Brienne did not know how long she sat there, just watching the children play in the grass, an old couple feeding the ducks in the little ornamental pond, and two young mothers gossiping, when her phone buzzed. Taking it out of her pocket, she realised that she had a message from Jaime.

 _Jaime:_ Are you ever going to get up from that bench?

 _Brienne:_ How do you know I'm on a bench?

 _Jaime:_ You are not that far away. I can see you from the window.

Turning her head back towards the apartment block, Brienne eyed the penthouse. Although she could not see him, she imagined Jaime watching her, wearing nothing but slacks. As ever, the thought of him - half-naked and easily accessible - was a tempting prospect.

 _Jaime:_ I waved. Did you see me?

 _Brienne:_ 😂 No, you are too far away.

 _Jaime:_ I don't have to be. Will you come back to the apartment?

 _Brienne:_ In a minute, I'm just clearing my head.

For a few moments, the three dots of doom danced on Brienne's screen, telling her that Jaime was typing.

 _Jaime:_ I'm sorry. I don't want to argue with you.

 _Brienne:_ And I don't want to argue with you.

 _Jaime:_ Then come back to the apartment. We can sort things out.

Putting her phone into her pocket, Brienne took a deep breath. One of the gossiping mothers had gone to talk to a blonde haired girl playing in the grass. There was something soft and tender in her eyes that told Brienne that this child was her daughter, and the emotion was so bright it almost burned. Brienne was transfixed. Up until this very moment, her future as Jaime's girlfriend and Alys' mother had seemed somewhat abstract, but now she could see it slowly unfurling ahead of her, as if this was a movie with a narrative arc and a predetermined end. One day, Brienne Tarth would be Alys Lannister's mother, and she would take her to parks and play with her. Jaime would be by her side, and they would build every part of their happiness brick by brick. That future was there, just before her. All Brienne had to do was take it.

Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to go home. She moved so quickly it was almost as if she flew.

"I'm sorry," she said, the moment she bundled through the door of the apartment, only to find Jaime waiting for her. "I overreacted. I..."

Given the type of man he was, Jaime did not instantly respond with soothing words, but by drawing close and pulling her to him.

" _I'm_ sorry," he said close to her ear, his voice silky smooth. "I didn't mean to upset you. I just wanted things to be out in the open, and not have to live a lie anymore."

Brienne tilted her head to look at him and Jaime stole the opportunity to press a kiss into her lips. Some of her resistance melted at once; he was such a tremendously good kisser. When they broke apart, she gazed into his eyes. "I know... it's just I'm worried about you... about us... about the future."

"Don't be," said Jaime, making the most of her newfound softness to rest his hand on her belly. "I won't ever leave you, wench. I love you and I am determined to make this work between us. Whatever happens with my father and Cersei, I don't care, because I am going to fight to keep up together. All three of us."

There was such an ardent, passionate look in his eye that for a moment, Brienne could do nothing but believe him. Wrapping her arms around him, she began to run soothing circles across the smooth plain of his back. The heat of him beneath his t-shirt was so comforting it brought tears to her eyes.

"I know you are, it's just that I'm scared."

"I know, but you don't need to be," he replied ardently, pulling back so he could look her in face and brush her hair out of her eyes. "If we are together, nothing can hurt us. In fact, being together is probably the thing that can help defend us and Alys best of all."

Brienne narrowed her eyes, confused at what Jaime was suggesting. "What do you mean?"

His expression turned furtive. "Okay, I've had an idea... just promise you won't freak out."

"Not this again..."

"Yes, this again," grinned Jaime, squeezing her tightly. "It's just that now I have told my father about us, there is no taking it back, so I thought we should probably make it _really_ official."

Brienne's eyes went wide. "You are not asking me to marry you, are you?"

"No, wench!" Jaime smiled, clearly amused. "When I ask you to marry me, it is going to be the most romantic thing ever. I will not do it after an argument while I am still wearing my pyjamas and we are trying to think of a way of getting one over my father."

"Then what _are_ you thinking?" she asked.

At her question, Jaime's smile went from one of frank amusement to conspiratorial glee. "Well... you know you said you didn't want to go to _Archon_ with me. Would you possibly consider changing your mind?"

* * *

It took kisses, sweetness, and Jaime making eggs successfully for Brienne to finally cave into his plan. It made sense in a way. _Archon_ was one of the hottest restaurants in King's Landing and, if she and Jaime were seen together there, it was basically as official as getting married. There were always hungry paps waiting outside and, if just one of them got a picture of Jaime with his Baby Mama, Cersei's media narrative would be dead in the water.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" asked Brienne for about the hundredth time, as she sat in the back of the private car that had been hired to take them to _Archon._ As Jaime was a celebrity, he had been able to get them a table for that night. Brienne found that fact both scarily impressive and a little terrifying; not only was it a demonstration of Jaime's power, but also an acknowledgement that she was going to have to embrace her future in front of the world tonight.

"Positive," said Jaime, taking her hand. "Once we've done this, the media narrative will be moving in our direction. And on top of that, we can get some really nice Tyroshi food. You'll love it."

Brienne tried to smile, but deep down she was worried. Jaime was used to getting his photograph taken by the paparazzi and had dressed for the occasion. He was wearing a smart Stormlander suit with cufflinks, which was perfectly tailored for him. In contrast, Brienne was wearing the blue maternity dress she had adopted for her photoshoot. While it was nice, it was not particularly flashy, so even though Jaime had assured her it looked great she still felt nervous.

"As long as you are sure."

"I _am_ sure," replied Jaime, squeezing her fingers. "Let me look after you. I want to look after you."

After that ardent declaration, the rest of the journey went by in a blur. Once the private car arrived at the restaurant, the chauffeur opened the door for Brienne and helped her out. Then, before she knew it, Jaime was on her arm and directing her towards the entrance. _Archon_ had a long, open veranda that guests had to walk down before arriving at the front door and Brienne had a sneaking suspicion that it was along here that some photos would be taken of them as she and Jaime entered the restaurant.

"Look happy," Jaime said under his breath. "Despite the fact we had an argument only this morning, we have to look loved up for this to work."

Brienne laughed. "You know I've forgiven you for that."

"And I've forgiven you," teased Jaime. "So we are even."

There were a few flashes of light as they processed along the veranda, but Jaime held Brienne's arm the whole way so that she did not feel nervous. Still, it was a relief when they passed through the entrance and were greeted by a smiling maître d', who instantly directed them through to a table on the upper floor with stunning views of the Blackwater.

"Wow," said Brienne to Jaime once they were finally alone. "This is definitely more pretentious than my usual."

He chuckled. "It's more pretentious than _my_ usual too, wench, and I'm one of the most pretentious people in the world."

"I can't deny that," she grinned, "but in this situation that character trait might be useful, because I have no idea what to order."

Luckily, Jaime was an expert when it came to the menus of pretentious restaurants, so he helped her pick out a Tyroshi pate to start and squid ink linguini for her mains, followed by a deconstructed lemon cake for dessert.

"What's deconstructed about it?" she asked curiously.

"They serve all the parts of the cake separately."

Brienne gazed at him incredulously. "Are they going to give me a whole lemon?"

"No, wench," he smiled. "They are not going to give you a whole lemon."

While Brienne was therefore sceptical about the deconstructed lemon cake, she had to concede the rest of the food was delicious and that Jaime had impeccable taste. The waiters were kind and attentive and, while she did miss being able to have a drink, the night was still romantic and wonderful, especially due to the view.

"Do you think we could see our apartment from here if we were sat on the other side of the restaurant?" asked Brienne.

Jaime raised an eyebrow at her. "Oh, it's _our_ apartment now, is it?"

"Yes! You are not getting rid of me that easily, you..."

"Jaime Lannister! What are you doing here?"

At the sound of that sing-song voice, both Jaime and Brienne turned their heads at once to the owner. Without even seeing her, Brienne could put a face to the voice as there was no mistaking Margaery Tyrell. As one of the most famous actresses in Westeros, everybody knew her honey coloured hair and soft gaze. If Brienne's perceptions about celebrities had not been so roundly destroyed by meeting Jaime and Cersei, she might have been starstruck.

"I'm just out for dinner," replied Jaime smoothly, without a hint of embarrassment or shame. "As I imagine you are."

"Oh yes," agreed Margaery. She had a way of speaking that sounded as if she were inviting the listener to join a conspiracy. "Loras has been a lovely brother and brought me here for my birthday, but a girl needs to escape to the ladies for five minutes occassionally."

"Happy Birthday," said Jaime. It was more than a platitude, Brienne knew; it was a genuine wish.

"Thank you," replied Margaery, who flipped a cascade of sweet smelling hair over her shoulder. "It was very sweet of him. But what are _you_ doing here? One doesn't normally come to _Archon_ without a purpose." She turned to Brienne, her eyes like lasers. "And who is your guest?"

Not sure if Margaery was friend or foe, Brienne looked at Jaime for guidance. He seemed entirely nonplussed, however, as he reached across the table and took Brienne's hand. At that public gesture of affection, Brienne felt a small piece of anxiety that she had not known was hiding in the centre of her chest disperse, and a palpable relief washed over her.

"This is Brienne. She is my girlfriend and the mother of my child."

Over the years, Brienne had seen Margaery in many roles; the Rose Princess in _The Long Night,_ Danny Flint in _The Wall,_ and the Maid of Summer in _Seasons._ Every role Margaery Tyrell had ever played was a confident woman who was sure of herself, so the look of bewildered surprise that crossed her face seemed almost unnatural.

"Your... your... _girlfriend?"_

"Yes," replied Jaime, shooting Brienne a warm look. "My girlfriend. Do you have a problem with that?"

Margaery waved her arms at once, attempting to smooth things over. "No, no, no, of _course_ not. It's just... _Cersei..._ "

"I thought you of all people would know not to believe what you read in the papers," quipped Jaime.

It took a few more moments for Margaery to get control of her facial expression, but once she did, she smiled at both Jaime and Brienne in turn. "Well, that is such wonderful news. I wish you both all the happiness."

"Thank you," said Brienne, finally finding her voice. "We really appreciate it. We could do with all the support we can get."

"Well, _of course,_ Cersei is going to come down on you like a ton of bricks when she finds out," said Margaery, before turning to Jaime and giving him a warning look. "You'll have to talk to Varys and get your media strategy right. You'll have to..."

Perhaps sensing Brienne's mounting alarm, Jaime held up a hand. "I know, and I promise I have it all under control."

"Good," said Margaery firmly, before giving them both a knowing glance. "We all know what happened to Jeyne Farman, after all."

Brienne decidedly did not know what had happened to Jeyne Farman.

Distracting Margaery with the promise of another photoshoot, Jaime eventually managed to get her off the topic of Cersei and onto something more comfortable for them all. However, Brienne continued to feel anxious, even once Margaery had said her goodbyes. The second she had gone, Jaime reached out and took Brienne's hand.

"Don't worry, sweetling. Everything will be fine."

In the palatial grandeur of _Archon,_ it was that statement which felt like a platitude to Brienne.

"What happened to Jeyne Farman?"

Jaime waved his free hand. "Nothing important. Nothing you need to worry..."

 _"What happened to Jeyne Farman?"_ pressed Brienne, not wanting Jaime to hide the truth from her.

Recognising her tension, Jaime sighed and let go of her hand. He worried at his bottom lip for a moment, before finally finding the words. "Jeyne Farman was Cersei's competition for the starring role in _Florian and Jonquil._ She got her people to start a surreptitious smear campaign against her, and it cost Jeyne her job on the movie and eventually her career. Nobody has ever been able to pin anything on Cersei, but we all know she did it."

Dread bloomed in Brienne's stomach.

"Is Margaery suggesting that she might do that to us?" she asked, her fear palpable in her voice. "That she might do that to _you?"_

"Maybe," said Jaime with a nonchalant shrug, "but I promise I will go and talk to Varys in the morning and we can get ahead of the game."

"But..."

Jaime's expression turned soft. "Brienne, I don't want to talk about Cersei right now, so will you just drop it? Enjoy your food. It is what we are here for. Let's have a nice night."

"But Jaime..."

" _Eat,"_ he pleaded. "For me."

* * *

While it had taken kisses, sweetness, and eggs to convince Brienne of Jaime's _Archon_ plan, it took squid ink linguini and deconstructed lemon cake to take Brienne back to the easy comfort she and Jaime had managed to cultivate during the starters. Pushing all thought of Margaery Tyrell and everything she had said to the back of her mind, Brienne tried to focus on Jaime and not on all the problems that were waiting for them just out of sight, pressing in like an oncoming storm. It became somewhat easier when, while waiting for the bill, Jaime moved his chair right beside her and began to run his fingers up and down her thigh.

"I cannot wait until we get home, wench," he whispered, as the waiter dealt with the thousand dragon bill on Jaime's credit card. "I'll have you all to myself."

"I count on it," Brienne replied breathlessly. The prospect of his body against hers really did wonders when trying to forget about his abominable ex-girlfriend.

Once the bill was paid for, Jaime and Brienne left _Archon_ and walked across the veranda to head back to the private car. The stars were very bright that night, and Brienne momentarily let herself luxuriate in the romantic aspects of the evening. She had just come to a very expensive restaurant with her boyfriend who she loved very much. At one time, Brienne would have though the night she had just experienced more than she could ever hope for. That she had finally found this happiness with Jaime was almost too much.

 _Then why do I feel so unsure?_ Brienne wondered.

On arriving back at the car, Jaime helped Brienne into her seat then took his place beside her. Once the doors were shut, he knocked on the screen that separated them from the driver. "I'll give you a hundred dragon tip if you dim the glass and don't interrupt us until we are back at the apartment."

"You've got yourself a deal," replied the driver, immediately doing exactly what Jaime had asked by darkening the glass, meaning Brienne could no longer see him.

Brienne turned to Jaime and gazed at him quizzically, surprised by his expectant smile. "What did you do--?"

She never got an answer to her question, however, as Jaime pulled her into his arms and kissed her firmly. Brienne melted at once. It was so wonderful to have him so warm and close, especially when she was feeling so unsure and needed the certainty of his body against hers to wash the anxiety away.

"Wench," he whispered, as he trailed a line of kisses down her jaw. "Oh wench. _Wench._ I love you so much. _"_

The car journey back to their apartment went surprisingly quickly, as Jaime had a way of making Brienne forget about time and all her worries with his ardent kisses. As he began sucking at her neck, causing her to shiver in anticipation, he lifted his good hand to her chest and sought out her breasts beneath the fabric of her dress. Brienne arched into his palm.

"That's it, wench, my wench," Jaime murmured, his worshipful words as good as the feeling of her nipple hardening against his fingertips. "Do you like that? Yes? Fuck... you are so hot."

"Jaime," Brienne breathed, gripping his shoulders in an attempt to keep herself moored in the waking world. "Jaime, _please..._ "

His eyes glittered in the darkness. "When we get home, I promise you I'll do whatever you want. _Whatever_. I'm yours and I want to make you feel safe... safe in my arms."

Once they arrived back at the apartment, Jaime tipped the driver and then helped Brienne out of the car. From there, it became a heady mix of affection and desire. On arrival in the apartment block's lift, Jaime put the key card for the penthouse in place then pushed Brienne against the wall, kissing her furiously. She responded by trying to get his buttons undone and, once they reached the top floor, his shirt was fully open. Hungry for one another, they ran down the corridor towards the door to the apartment, Brienne stumbling in her shoes.

"Careful, wench," Jaime laughed, holding her up. "I know you want me, but please try to stay upright."

"It's you that doesn't want me upright," she teased. It was a poor attempt at innuendo, but she was not used to making such risqué jokes.

Jaime's eyes shone. "Maybe it's _me_ who shouldn't be upright. Maybe you should go on top."

The prospect of having Jaime beneath her, _worshipping_ her, was almost too much for Brienne. Although she was heavily pregnant and therefore not as mobile as she was, she could see his desire for her to take charge, so obliged him once they returned to the apartment. She pulled at his clothes as he opened the front door, then pushed him inside with all the force of a goddess. Jaime grinned at her, in a way that was almost goading, as she slammed the door behind them. At the sight of him half-naked, Brienne could not help but sigh. It was never fully vocalised, however, as he smashed his mouth against hers and pulled her close, meaning there was nothing in the world but him and her and...

"Ahem."

Jaime jerked away from her sharply. It was only in the absence of his lips that Brienne realised the light in the apartment was on, and they were not alone. To her astonishment, the living area was full people in very professional looking suits. As Brienne found the ability to focus, she suddenly realised that most of them appeared to be Lannister lackeys, because at the centre of the group stood a man who could only be Tywin Lannister. He exuded the same silent power as a minotaur; hidden within a labyrinth, his strength was nevertheless palpable. In the the silence of the apartment, Tywin was all glacial coldness. The air felt frigid when Brienne tried to breath. Dumbfounded by his presence, it took Brienne a few moments to spot Cersei by his side, all porcelain prettiness and wildfire rage. While Tywin did not make any attempt to move, Cersei launched herself towards Jaime, pointing one of her talons in his face.

"I knew you were fucking her," she spat, not even dignifying Brienne with her name. "I _knew_ it."

Brienne turned to look at Jaime, her heart in her throat. It seemed Jaime was just as shocked as she was, as he had turned a deathly pale. His eyes were locked on his father in some kind of childish incomprehension, as he searched for answers in the patriarchal figure who had long ruled his life.

"Father, what are you doing here?"

Tywin Lannister's expression remained icy. "If you remember, Jaime, I originally paid for this apartment, so I have a key."

"I know," stammered Jaime, as Brienne could only look on confusedly. She had _not_ known that Tywin paid for the apartment. "But what are you doing here?"

In the following silence, Tywin's eyes shifted to Brienne, and she suddenly felt very small and out of place. Jaime's apartment was richly adorned and palatial, and was designed for beautiful people. She was not that... she was...

After considering her for a brief moment, Tywin turned back to Jaime, his tone matching his expression.

"I think it is time that you and I have a talk about your duties, Jaime. Don't you?"

Jaime was so blindsided by his father's presence in the apartment that he just nodded mutely. The sight reminded Brienne of a hermit crab, seeking safety back in its shell.

Wanting to feel a little less alone, Brienne reached out and took Jaime's hand. They were going to be in for a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading. As ever, I would love to hear what you think, especially now Tywin and Cersei are involved!


	47. Part XLVII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne face off with Tywin and Cersei...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, thanks for coming back for this chapter! This one is quite tense, but I hope you like it.
> 
> It has discussion of Jaime/Cersei's past relationship, so warnings for mention of abusive relationships.

Jaime was thankful that Brienne had taken his hand because, in that horrible moment, her touch felt like some sort of shield against the situation he now found himself in. Cersei was pacing up and down in front of them both, laughing to herself as if she had just realised something of huge significance, while the Lannister lackeys watched on with unkind expressions.

"How long has this been going on for?" she asked, not even looking at Brienne as she kept eyes trained on Jaime. "Weeks? Months? From the moment you met?"

"Of course not," said Jaime, aiming for a dismissive tone.

"How long then?"

Jaime's mouth became a sullen line. "Is it really any of your business?"

"Of course it is my business!" snapped Cersei. "We are meant to be getting married! Can you _imagine_ what the newspapers would say if they found out you had been fucking around behind my back with that cow? My reputation is built on my irresistibility, Jaime, and you are destroying it all!"

From the moment Cersei said that insulting, degrading word - _cow_ \- Jaime found himself edging in front of Brienne and puffing himself up to his full height. "Don't call her that," he spat, as Brienne stiffened beside him. "You _will_ show her respect!"

Cersei let out a laugh, poisonous in spite of its lightness. "Why would I show that whore respect? She's been sleeping with my fiancé!"

"I'm not your fiancé!" Jaime said, his words crashing to the shore more loudly with every syllable. "I don't want to be with you. I don't want to marry you. You cheated on me and abused me, why would you think for a moment that I would put up with that kind of behaviour?"

Cersei laughed. It was cold and cruel. "What are you talking about, Jaime? I never _abused_ you. Our relationship has always been _passionate,_ and you enjoyed the rough sex just as much as me. It is just because you are now tolerating vanilla sex with that ugly bitch, you are trying to deny you liked the pain we used to inflict on each other while fucking."

Jaime did not have anything to say to that suggestion. It was true that, when they were together, he and Cersei had cultivated a kind of _push-me-pull-me_ dynamic that saw him playing the aggressor and she the passive subdued. Yet Jaime remembered doing that for _her,_ and never receiving the little affection he had longed for in return. Nevertheless, he could not bring himself to bite back - it felt as if his mouth was glued shut - because his father was glaring at him witheringly.

Lost in his inner turmoil, Jaime had quite forgot he had a knight in shining armour

"Of course you abused Jaime," hissed Brienne, angrier than he had ever seen her. Letting go of his hand, she stepped forward, instantly turning from the protected to the protector. "You took advantage of him when he was drunk. You hit him multiple times. You tried to guilt him into marrying you. You told him he was worthless, useless, and talentless. You isolated him in this apartment while you swanned off to Dorne, slept with whoever you wanted, and them kept him hooked by granting him the tiniest scraps of affection. You never gave him the space to have his own opinion or express his wants and desires. And now you are trying to make him and everyone else believe the sky is green when it is actually blue. So stop with your bullshit, Cersei, because we all know what you really are. Inside, you are ugly."

Brienne's accurate accusations were issued with such incisive fury that Jaime was overcome by a strong desire to kiss her. Cersei's reaction, however, was quite different. At Brienne's declaration, Cersei made an indignant scoffing sound then turned around to the line of Lannister lackeys behind her, her golden hair flipping over her shoulder as he did so. If he was still in love and addicted to her particular brand of poison, he might have found that subtle move entrancing. Now, he just found it a performative act that was anything but artless.

"Did you just hear what that ogre just said to me?" thundered Cersei, gesticulating wildly in Brienne's direction. "That's basically slander! And coming from some basic bitch whose womb I've been magnanimous enough to rent for the last nine months, it really is something!" Her flashing eyes caught Tywin's. "Are you going to say anything? Or am I going to have to fight this all on my own?"

At first, Jaime thought that Tywin would deny Cersei any sort of input when she demanded it of him, given the way he stared at her with those cold, unreadable eyes of his. However, he was soon to be disappointed. Turning his skin-peeling gaze from Cersei, his father focussed his attention on Jaime and, the moment their eyes met, Jaime was overwhelmed by a feeling of his own inadequacy. It burnt so hot and bright that any pride he had in Brienne was quickly overshadowed.

"Jaime, you are having a baby with Cersei."

Even though his tongue felt thick, Jaime tried to speak. "She doesn't care about Alys though, Father..."

" _Jeyne_ is a Lannister who deserves to have a married mother and father raising her, not being passed around like a football between her deadbeat dad, his totally inappropriate girlfriend, and his actual mother. Thoroughbreds and carthorses do not mix, and Jeyne will be a thoroughbred."

"Cersei is not _Alys'_ actual mother," said Jaime, glancing back at Brienne. "It is _Brienne_ who has carried her, _Brienne_ who has been to all the birthing classes, _Brienne_ who has..."

"It is Cersei's egg that was fertilised by your sperm at Qyburn's clinic," said Father forcefully, pointing at Cersei. Surprisingly, she could not meet Jaime's eye. "I was against it at the time, but I permitted you going the IVF route because Cersei wanted to keep her career. You signed up to that, Jaime, and you can't walk out of your agreement now."

Reaching for Brienne's hand for support, Jaime grasped her fingers. She squeezed back in a way that was both comforting and gave him strength. "Brienne and I have been to see our lawyers. We want to make a claim for full custody of Alys and for Brienne to be recognised as her mother." At that statement of intent, Jaime looked at Cersei, wondering whether placating her would be to his advantage. "Having a baby will be a stress you don't need, Cers. Can you imagine having to take a baby with you when you travel? You won't be able to go to parties without considering childcare, and they have needs."

Given that he thought the understanding tone was a long shot, Jaime was surprised when Cersei appeared to consider his proposed future for a moment. Her hard expression softened, and her eyes narrowed as she seemed to parse out the possibilities.

"Brienne and I would truly love her," said Jaime gently. "We would make sure she is happy and cared for and..."

Father surged forward, disturbing Cersei's rumination and Jaime's persuasion. "This is not a question of _love,_ Jaime, but duty. I have seen what suits you intend to make with your lawyers but I tell you now, if you take Cersei to court over Jeyne, you would be airing this family's dirty laundry in front of the world."

That Father so easily pivoted from talking about Alys' wellbeing to the state of the Lannister dynasty was so disappointingly expected that Jaime found himself snapping.

"Tysha is not my fault!" cried Jaime, the injustice breaking out of him, nearly cracking his ribs in the process. "You can't ask me to sacrifice the woman I love for your mistakes!"

Father's lips quirked into a something that might have been a smile on a more feeling man. "I am not asking you to sacrifice the woman you love. I am asking you to _marry_ her. Marry Cersei, have the baby, and the fairy tale life you've always wanted."

At his Father's order - delivered in a cold, demanding voice - Jaime glanced at Cersei, the blonde haired vision he had once adored. Now, he felt nothing for her. Desperate for support, Jaime looked at Brienne, and right on cue she wrapped her arm around him. He relaxed into her instantly.

"Jaime does not want to marry Cersei, so he _will not_ marry Cersei, do you hear me?" she said, all strength and passion. Given that Brienne was normally so calm and gentle, the venomous fire of her fury was now instantly palpable. "He is a free man, he can make his own choices, he..."

"Miss Tarth, is your father Selwyn Tarth of Evenfall Drive, Tarth?"

Brienne froze at Father's question. "Yes, I..."

"Do you realise that he has recently re-mortgaged his house and owes a considerable amount of money to Casterly Bank?"

"I... I..."

"And," said Father, stepping forward, "is he the same Selwyn Tarth who has health insurance with _Lion Life_ and is depending partly on the money he receives from them... or should I say, _us_... in order to fund his heart medication?"

Although Jaime knew that Brienne partially paid for her father's healthcare through the money she made, it was clearly not enough as she went so pale at that subtle threat, that she almost turned translucent.

"You _wouldn't_."

"Don't tell me what I would and wouldn't do if you threaten my son's life," said Father, darkness exuding from him. His voice was quiet, but everyone was hanging on his every word. "You are doing a PhD at King's Landing University, aren't you? Wouldn't it be a shame if there was a plagiarism complaint? And your friend, Sansa Stark. What if my associate Randyll Tarly put her rent up? And Catelyn Stark and her practice? A health violation complaint. If you _dare_ try and get your claws into my son, I will rip you apart before you can blink, don't think I won't. I know every button to push if you cross me, Miss Tarth."

The blank-eyed stares of his Father's people seemed to confirm the extent of his power. They seemed ready, armed even, with dodgy accounting and criminal litigation that would do just the trick to bring Brienne Tarth, and everyone she loved, down.

That they were prepared for war made Jaime want to cry.

"Brienne hasn't got her claws into me," said Jaime, slipping his arm around her waist and holding her tight, "and she is not threatening my life. I _love_ her and want to be with her, and if you loved _me_ you would understand that and not try and get in the way of that."

After his impassioned plea, Brienne leant across and pecked Jaime on the cheek. It made the weight on his heart lighten, so he wrapped his other arm around her too. He wanted to protect her and Alys more than anything. Father and Cersei seemed to disagree, though. They exchanged a look that was full of meaning that Jaime could not read, before Father turned back towards him. There was a storm in his eyes.

"Jaime, I want you to be under no illusions. If you continue with this foolish endeavour to try and make your whore your wife, I will tear her limb from limb. I will make sure she is kicked off her PhD course, that her father loses his house and his health insurance, and her friend cannot stay in her home because the rent is too high. I have no qualms in turning her into another Tysha and, like last time, I will get away with it."

Horrible memories of that night - shadowed and silent - slipped through Jaime's mind. He had long suppressed what had actually happened to Tysha, but now as the truth rose to the surface, Jaime would be damned if he would let the same happen again. His choice was simple, but monstrously unjust all the same.

"Why?" he asked, his voice cracking, "why would you ask me to give up my happiness? Why are you taking Cersei's side over mine? What have I ever done to make you hate me so much?"

If anything could be said to Cersei's credit, it was that she looked equally curious at the answer to that question as Jaime did. Given the way everyone was staring at him, Jaime thought that Father would at least consider his answer, but instead he answered as if it took him no thought.

"I know what is best for you. You are my son."

In his peripheral vision, Jaime could see that Brienne's eyes were starting to glisten with tears. It sent his protective instincts into overdrive. "This is not about what is best for me. Just because Joanna knows--"

"Joanna knows what?" interrupted Cersei, her brows furrowed in confusion.

Yet Father would not answer her question, as he cut across her without a care. "This is not a question of Joanna, this is a question of you and Cersei, sitting down and working everything out. Which you will do... right. now."

"But I don't want to work it out," said Jaime. "I want to be with Brienne."

"Then you know what _I_ will do," replied Tywin firmly. "I will destroy everything you both hold dear."

The magnitude of his father's conviction suddenly overwhelmed Jaime. These were not idle, empty threats. Just as Tysha had been tossed aside as if she was worth nothing years before, Father was planning on doing the same to Brienne, and this time taking great relish in it. It did not matter that there seemed to be no real logic to his actions, Tywin Lannister was deadly serious.

 _Was he this heartless before Mother died?_ Jaime wondered. _I hardly remember._

Unable to stand being stared at by Father, Cersei, and their lackeys, Jaime dropped his arms from around Brienne and took her hand. "Brienne and I are going to have a chat," he announced. "Give us one moment."

It looked as if Cersei was going to object, but then Tywin raised a hand and it quelled her to silence. "Of course," said Father, as if he was being magnanimous, "but don't be too long."

Before Father could change their mind, Jaime pulled Brienne from the fires of the Inquisition and towards to apartment door. She came meekly, and only made an attempt to reach out once they were outside in the corridor. As tears spilt down her cheeks, she lifted her hands to his face. He could not help but lean into her touch.

"What are we going to do?" she asked, her words wrapped in a sob. "They are threatening to take Alys away, threatening to hurt me... and my Dad... and Sansa..."

The sight of her hurting because of his own stupid mess almost broke Jaime's heart in two. Leaning forward, he drew her into his arms and then began to kiss away her tears; her cheeks, her nose, her forehead. As he did so, Brienne clung onto him, her body shaking with emotion.

"Wench, this is all too much for you and Alys," he whispered, inches from her ear. His ran his only functional hand up and down her back in order to soothe her. "Leave this all to me. Why don't you go back to your flat for the night? My father, Cersei, and their lackeys won't go without a fight, so here won't be a very comfortable place to get a good night's sleep."

Her blue eyes glistened in her sadness. "I don't want to go to my flat. I want to stay here, with you."

"I know, sweet girl," said Jaime, resting his forehead against hers, "but you being here will be like a red rag to the bull. Maybe I will be able to talk things through without you here... make them see sense."

Brienne looked less than happy at that suggestion. "But I want to be with _you_. I want to support you, and I don't want you hurt."

"Don't worry about me," he said, before kissing her on the tip of the nose. Normally that would make her smile, but Brienne just continued to look sad. "I'm used to it. I'm used to being hurt by them."

A tear rolled down her cheek. "You shouldn't be! Your father should love you, respect you, and want you to be happy! Not threaten everybody who happens to be in close proximity to you when you don't conform to his will."

He tried to smile, but it was hard.

"Well, sometimes life is just not fair," he said sadly.

After that, Brienne clearly decided there was no need for words. Leaning forward awkwardly to get around her bump, she kissed him passionately, without a moment's fear or hesitation. Jaime responded at once, seeking out her tongue with his when she teased his lips open. He could feel her hot breath against his skin and for one moment - one shining, perfect moment - he could imagine a world where nothing would ever stand in their way. They loved each other and that was all that mattered.

Unfortunately, such a world would not have Tywin Lannister in it.

"Go," ordered Jaime as he pulled away from her kiss. "I won't have you being upset by them and Alys needs her rest just as much as you do. I'll call you in the morning once everything is sorted out."

In her sadness and worry, Brienne's eyes were as a beautiful and brilliant as the mood. "I don't want to leave you."

"You won't be leaving me," he replied, before lifting his hand to his chest. "You'll be in here... with me."

She smiled, the emotion bursting through like the sun on a cloudy day. "Gods, you are so sentimental sometimes."

"I know," he sighed.

Sending her away was hard, but it had to be done.

"Go, Brienne. We'll talk in the morning once all this has blown over."

Knowing that she had little other choice, Brienne gave him one more lingering kiss before saying her goodbyes.

He then went to face the music alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! As you have probably guessed, I have not yet revealed all the details of what is going on with Tywin, so I hope you like where I take it. I would love to read what you think in a comment :)


	48. Part XLVIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the face off with Tywin and Cersei, Brienne waits for Jaime to call...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, here is a short little update for you, guys! It is a chapter we have all been waiting for (me most of all), so I hope you like it.

For a place that was ostensibly her home, it was amazing how uncomfortable Brienne felt in her flat without Jaime there.

It was strange to curl up to go to sleep without him beside her, his chest rising and falling in relaxed slumber. The sheets smelt of washing detergent rather than him or the things they did together, and it was unnervingly quiet due to the fact the air was not filled with his relentless chatter. She even missed the contented humming sound that he made when she rested her hand on his chest, or nuzzled his neck, or kissed his cheek. Without Jaime, Brienne's world was silent, cold, and she felt immensely lost without him.

As she settled into bed that night, her hand resting on her belly, Brienne could not help but get caught up in anxious thoughts of Jaime, Tywin, and Cersei. She had left him to sort it all out - and she _trusted_ him to sort it out - but nevertheless felt guilty that she had done so. Tywin and Cersei were monsters who had spent their whole life twisting Jaime up and screwing with his head until he could no longer tell the difference between night and day, so there was no guarantee he would hold fast this time. Although he would undoubtedly be bolstered by the strength of their relationship and his sessions with Aemon, Brienne still felt as if she had left Jaime in the lion's den totally alone, with nothing to guard himself with but his own wits. Unless he was on his guard, Tywin and Cersei would sink their claws in and pull him apart until he was nothing more than tattered flesh.

 _I have to believe in him,_ Brienne told herself. _And just hope that Tywin and Cersei won't be too cruel._

In spite of her faith, Brienne slept fitfully that night, her dreams punctuated by the image of Jaime screaming, followed by horrible beasts with green eyes chasing him into an abyss. Desperate to save him, Brienne ran after him, but she found nothing but bloody footprints, leading somewhere she could not follow.

Escaping from the dream, Brienne burst into her dark bedroom with a strangled cry, gasping for air.

 _Jaime,_ she thought desperately. _Jaime._

* * *

The dazzling light that woke Brienne the following day was too bright to be the early glow of morning. She blinked, rolled over, and checked the clock beside her bed. It was 11am.

Brienne sat up, panicked.

 _Where's my phone?_ she wondered, fear mounting in her chest as she looked around. _Jaime should have called by now. He should have everything sorted..._

After awkwardly reaching around her bed, Brienne eventually found the offending mobile had fallen down in the gap between her mattress and the bedside cabinet, and that it was barely charged. Plugging it in as quickly as she could, Brienne scrolled through her notifications to see if she had been contacted by Jaime, the screen almost a blur in her haste.

No such luck.

 _He'll call me when he is ready,_ Brienne told herself firmly. _Tywin and Cersei are tricky, and he is probably just laying out the limits of the bargain they struck. That is all. There is no need to worry._

Bolstered by that confident prediction, Brienne decided the best thing to do was distract herself until Jaime called. Given her hugely swollen belly - almost nine months now - she found she was tremendously uncomfortable most of the time and needed to find ways to lessen the never-ending pressure on her body. That morning, she settled on an over-indulgent shower that lasted at least twenty minutes, before drying herself, getting changed, and going to make herself some tea.

There was still no message from Jaime.

 _He won't be long,_ she told herself as sipped her relaxing cup of camomile.

 _He is just sorting out the details,_ she chanted, as she started the washing up for a second time.

_He's just... I don't know what he is doing..._

As the time passed, Brienne anxiety built, so she had to find something to do to distract her nervous hands. She settled on going through the vast amount of paperwork in her room and throwing some of it out. Given everything that was going on with Jaime, her thesis was now taking up less and less space in her life, so she felt equipped to rid herself to the extraneous academic ephemera she had been clinging onto due to diligence and nothing else. It took such a long time to lug the paper from her bedroom to the living room, and then find a recycling bag to sort the excess into, that once she had finished, Brienne no longer felt in the mood to do the job she had set out to do. Her mind was all on Jaime - _Jaime, Jaime, Jaime_ \- and whether he would come home to her.

 _My home is with him,_ she thought sadly, _but is his truly with me?_

Just before her fears overwhelmed her, Brienne heard Aemon's voice - chiding but kind - telling her to cling onto the raft, and not let herself drown. In an instant, she realised that being alone would not be the best course of action at the current moment and she should seek out company to prevent herself toppling over the edge with worry.

There was only one person she could think of messaging.

 _Brienne:_ Hey San. Are you free? Things got really dramatic with Jaime last night (because of Tywin and Cersei) and I'm back at my flat. I need a friend.

It only took a few minutes for Sansa to reply and, when she did it was suitably replete with exclamation marks.

 _Sansa:_ OMG!!! Of course I'll come!!! Stay calm! I'll be there as soon as I can!!!

Brienne found it so reassuring to know that Sansa was on her way and would not leave her on her own, that she was able to turn back to her work, trying not to think of Jaime as she rifled through the papers. Determined, she was quite ruthless with herself - throwing away all the notes she did not need, and the ones she felt her thesis had outgrown - but at other points she was more lenient. In fact, she spent quite a long time reading a leaflet that she had forgotten she had, that she picked up when Jaime was in the hospital.

_Tired of the stressful, hectic King's Landing life? Come and volunteer in Lhazar! Build Communities. Build Confidence. Make friends for life!_

_Contact Daenerys Targaryen at the Lhazar Tourism Board for more information!_

Brienne could not help but think a life in Lhazar, helping the community, would be something she would really enjoy if she did not have commitments back in King's Landing; in particular, a half-finished thesis she was rapidly losing interest in, a baby on the way, and a man that she loved. Nevertheless, the thought was so enticing that Brenne was daydreaming about the warm Essosi sun when there was a loud knock at the door.

"Coming!" she called, abandoning the leaflet on the table before getting to her feet with some difficulty. There was yet another knock. "I'm coming Sansa! It just takes a little time when I am this pregnant."

In spite of their plans, when she opened the door, Brienne discovered it was not Sansa at all.

"Dad!" cried Brienne, leaping forward to pull him into her arms the second she saw him. "What are you doing here?"

"Can't I come and see my Starburst every once in a while?" he asked jovially. As he wrapped his arms around her, the cool box he was carrying banged against her back a little painfully.

"But I thought you were on Tarth!"

Her Dad smiled against Brienne's shoulder. "I had to come to the city to negotiate a new boat for the Tarth Lifeboat Service, so I thought it would be a perfect time to drop in on my daughter."

Overwhelmed to have someone she loved so near, Brienne squeezed him tightly. "How did you know I was here?"

"This is your flat, isn't it?"

"But I've been staying at Jaime's recently."

Her Dad smiled. "Well, seeing that the last time I met Jaime I punched him in the face, it is probably best I don't turn up there uninvited... not that I know where he lives in the first place."

"Well it is a happy coincidence that we are here at the same time," she said, before stepping backwards. "Come in. I'll make you some tea."

As Brienne turned into the flat, her Dad held out the cool box to her. "I brought you some fish stew from Tarth. I doubt you get fresh Stormlands fish in the capital, but I advise you to either put it in the freezer or eat it today. It won't last long."

She checked her watch; it was nearly noon.

"It is almost lunchtime, Dad. Why don't I heat up the stew and we can both have some? Sansa is on her way, so she might like some too."

Her Dad evidently found that an amenable idea, so Brienne let him into her flat then went and put the fish stew in the microwave to defrost. She then returned to her Dad, who was already lounging on the sofa full of stories and questions.

"How are you finding the end of your pregnancy? Uncomfortable? Is Jaime being helpful?"

"Your mother was miserable during the last weeks of pregnancy. She said she felt as if her body had been invaded by an alien. Has it been as bad for you?"

"Where is Jaime? Shouldn't he be running around looking after your every whim right about now?"

Brienne answered most of her Dad's questions with patience and good humour, apart from the ones about Jaime. She still had not heard from him, and was getting more worried by the second, so did not want to lightly bring him up in conversation lest the thought of him being terrorised by Tywin and Cersei made her cry.

"Oh, you know, Jaime is..."

There was a loud knock at the door. Brienne almost sighed in relief.

"Dad, Sansa is here. Just give me one second."

Waddling across the room away from her Dad, Brienne was immensely glad to have an excuse not to talk about Jaime, but that feeling turned to dread thirty seconds later when she opened the door to Sansa. Her best friend was armed with chocolates and a sympathetic look on her face, clearly in the mood to do nothing but announce Brienne's problems to the world.

"Oh gods, Brienne. What has happened with Jaime?" she asked, bundling into the room. "How is he? How are _you?_ Your message sounded so desperate!"

Brienne went to respond, but her Dad cut across her.

"Something has happened to Jaime?" he asked suspiciously. "You didn't tell me that, Starburst!"

As Brienne searched for the words, Sansa stepped around her to get into the flat. "She hasn't told me the full story either, Mr Tarth," said Sansa, "but I think she could do with an attentive audience. Whatever has happened sounds like it was a massive drama."

As Sansa plopped down on the sofa beside Brienne's Dad, Brienne looked at their matching concerned faces. What could she say? That Jaime's father was a tyrant who wanted to control his son's life by forcing him to marry his abuser? That Cersei was back in town and was trying to get control of him once again? That Jaime was fighting for their right to be a couple, and she was terrified that he would pulled down by the pressure of his father, the biological mother of his child, and the obligation he felt towards both of them?

Brienne took a deep breath in an attempt to remain calm.

"Sansa, Dad has brought some fish stew from Tarth. We were thinking of heating some up for lunch. Why don't you join us, and then I can tell you everything that is going on over food?"

Ameliorated by that suggestion, Sansa nodded. "That sounds great!" she replied. "I'm considering becoming a pescatarian, so this will open my eyes to fishy cuisine."

"What is a pescatarian?" asked Brienne's Dad.

"A pescatarian is a person who doesn't eat meat, but does eat fish..."

As Sansa started soliloquising about her new dietary fad, and Brienne's Dad replied with a story about how the ancient Andals first brought Tarth fish stew to the island, Brienne took the opportunity to sneak away.

 _I'll have to think of a way to explain what is going on without telling them about how Jaime broke the news to Tywin,_ she thought. _Otherwise Jaime will just look impulsive and a little foolish that he called Tywin and told him the truth without having a real plan..._

Her Dad's words about marinated mackerel were only muffled when Brienne reached the kitchen and closed the door. It was much smaller than the palatial one in Jaime's apartment, but she still had the space to heat up the fish stew. Brienne was also sure that she had a stray bottle of cheap red wine somewhere, that she could open for her dad and Sansa to keep them distracted from the finer details of her and Jaime's problems.

 _We can still have a nice lunch,_ she told herself, _even if Jaime hasn't called._

Trying to focus on that hope, Brienne squatted down so she could find the big pan to cook the freshly defrosted stew in. Once she located it, she tugged it out from behind the Tupperware it was concealing itself with, then put it on the hob. Taking the partially defrosted stew out of the microwave, Brienne prepared to heat up the pan to start cooking, but then stopped quite suddenly at the strange sensation that had overtaken her.

The world had shifted ever so slightly on its axis.

Something popped inside her - not painfully, but still quite obviously - and then Brienne felt as if she had wet herself, as a thin line of warm liquid was trickling down her leg. She blinked. Was she really so stressed that she had no control over her bladder? Putting the stew to one side, Brienne looked down at herself confusedly. She had been so worried about Jaime, Tywin, and Cersei that she had almost forgot that she was now nearing the end of her pregnancy, and that she would soon have a whole new load of issues trying to push its way out from between her thighs, issues more pressing than the status of hers and Jaime's relationship.

"Dad, Sansa," she called hesitantly, trying to keep the fear out of her voice. "Can you both in here for a moment?"

There was a sound of shuffling feet and muted voices, until the kitchen door opened, and her Dad and Sansa appeared, awkwardly trying to squeeze themselves into the small room.

"Are you alright, Starburst?" asked her Dad. "Do you need help with the stew?"

She shook her head. At the sight of her Dad and Sansa's tentative expressions, Brienne truly felt the extent of how much she missed Jaime and wanted him with her at all times.

She wasn't prepared to do this alone.

"I'm fine, it's just... I think my waters have broken."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Please let me know what you think with a comment or kudos :)


	49. Part XLIX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alys arrives...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, thank you so much for coming back to read this chapter.
> 
> I am so nervous about this one. I have never given birth and I've never been present at a birth (other than my own, so I don't really remember it), so all my knowledge comes from films and random googling. I hope this chapter is therefore not too ridiculous.
> 
> Obviously, warning for depiction of a birth!

_Jaime and I had a plan,_ Brienne thought distantly, as the world around her turned into a storm of panicking friends and confused fathers. _We had everything meticulously laid out. Jaime was meant to help keep me calm..._

"Do you have a birthing bag?" asked her Dad, the tension palpable in his voice. "If so, where is it? It will help us get everything ready."

"It must be at Jaime's, we're going to have to improvise!" concluded Sansa, as she made a dive for the bathroom to see if she could find any towels. "Towels? Towels? Where are the goddamn towels?"

"Are you happy to drive, Sansa?" called Brienne's Dad through the door. He did not turn to look towards the bathroom, because he was - for some inexplicable reason - too busy emptying the near bare fridge into the new birthing bag.

"Yes!" came Sansa's voice from somewhere distant. "Brienne decided to give birth at my mum's private clinic. I know where it is."

As her Dad and Sansa dashed around her getting everything together, Brienne could not help but feel a little dazed. She and Jaime had planned her labour out to the letter; the option of a water birth, the massage and breathing techniques, the method of travel, the birthing soundtrack. Yet now, all their well laid plans seemed to be crumbling before their eyes, because she and Jaime were separated, and he was in the clutches of his father and Cersei. Tears came to her eyes as Brienne thought of him, and how the beautiful gossamer support web they had built together seemed to be disintegrating at the first sign of a storm. He wasn't even _here,_ when all Brienne wanted was him to rub her back, hold her hand, and to let him tell her that everything was going to be alright.

"Dad?"

"Yes, Starbust?" her Dad replied, as he helped Sansa (armed with towels) load a few of the them into the new makeshift birthing bag.

"Have you called Jaime?"

Her Dad looked towards the bathroom door as if for support, which instantly put Brienne on edge.

"We tried," he said gently, "but we only got through to the answerphone."

It felt as if a hand had grabbed her heart and was slowly squeezing it, tighter and tighter until it hurt. Even though her labour had started, she was more worried about Jaime and where he was and if Cersei had hurt him and if Tywin had broken his heart and--

"Brienne, _breathe._ You are panicking."

She blinked, re-entering the room. Sansa's hands - cold from water - were pressing into her shoulders, and it took her a moment to realise that her friend must have washed them in the bathroom.

"I need Jaime," she said, her voice breaking into a sob as Sansa became blurry before her eyes. At first, Brienne thought she might be going mad as Sansa's face became a flood of colour, but then realised it was because she was crying when she felt the hot tears rolling down her cheeks. "I need... I need..." Shadows haunted her, rendering her intelligible. "I _need_ Jaime _."_

"I told you, Starburst, we've called him, but he didn't answer..."

"I can't leave him with them!" Her fear bubbled over, like boiling water in in a saucepan, scolding all those that came too close. "He's been with Tywin and Cersei for so long and I don't know what they are _saying_ to him. He hasn't contacted me, and he said he would, so I know it must be something bad, it must be something... oh, oh, ow, ow, _oowwwww."_

Pain ripped through her panicked thoughts as her first contraction overwhelmed her. It was brief, sharp, and like a particularly bad menstrual cramp, and did nothing to calm her terror but instead redirect her fear away from Jaime and towards her current predicament.

As the knot of pain lodged itself in her belly, Brienne blindly reached out, only to find Sansa willing to take her hand. Her eyes were filled with concern. "I think that was the first one," Brienne managed to gasp when the feeling had passed, pressing her free hand on her belly. Everything felt still, yet the tension thrumming through Brienne meant Alys was now less an abstract thought and more a real life baby making herself known in her body. "Gods, I can't do this alone! I want Jaime! Where is Jaime?"

Her Dad and Sansa exchanged a glance, filled with nervousness. "Selwyn, what do you think we should do? Should we drive to Jaime's?"

There were a few moments of silence as Brienne's Dad mulled over Sansa's words, before he shook his head. "I say we stick with the plan and take her to Catelyn," he said resolutely. "I don't want her giving birth out in the cold while we are running around looking for Jaime, do you?"

"Dad, I--"

"Of course, you are right," interrupted Sansa, fixing Brienne's Dad with an agreeing gaze, before turning back to Brienne. Her expression became as soft as honey at once. "Brie, we've got to get you to the clinic..."

"I don't want to go to the clinic! I want Jaime! I want..."

"What would Jaime want you to do?" snapped her Dad suddenly, his voice like cracking wood. "Would he want you to panic and cry and dissolve without him?" Brienne froze. She had not expected her Dad would speak to her so decisively while she was in pain. "Or would he want you to focus on your needs and the needs of your baby?"

Her mouth became an irritated line as she tried to find some way to argue that she _needed_ to see Jaime, but her arguments quickly collapsed in the face of her Dad and Sansa's firm, but concerned, expressions.

Brienne sighed. "Alright," she said, irritably. "We will go to Catelyn's, but can we _please_ try to get in contact with Jaime?"

Armed with the agreement of her Dad and Sansa, Brienne found herself being bundled into the latter's car with a bag of stuff that had been put together in imitation of the birthing bag that Jaime had lovingly assembled over the last few months. The thought that she was living in a world of echoes and shadows almost made Brienne weep.

"Are you all settled, starburst?" said her Dad, turning around from the front seat to appraise her. He wore a smile, yet still managed to look nervous.

"Yes, I'm fine."

It was not true, but a lie would have to suit.

* * *

They met nothing but traffic as they crossed King's Landing, and not even Brienne's Dad's florid swearing could speed them up. It seemed there were major roadworks on the Street of Seeds which had plunged the whole city into gridlock and it made the going very, very _slow._ Yet that was not the worst of it. During the wait, Brienne found the contractions got closer and closer together, and more painful by the moment.

"Can you call Jaime again?" she moaned, after a particularly agonising contraction wracked her body. "I really need him. I really..."

Her Dad complied and got his phone out again but was soon shaking his head. "Answerphone, Brienne. I'm sorry."

Answerphone. Answerphone. Answerphone.

"Where is he?" she whined, digging her hands into the car seat. The material was resistant against her fingers. "Why isn't he answering? Why isn't he... ow... _ow... OWWW!!"_

"Keep calm, starburst, it's the only thing you can do."

"But they are getting closer together!" she cried as the feeling hit her again from somewhere deep inside, consuming every part of her. "And Jaime's not here! He might not even be here in time, he might not..."

"Breathe, starburst," said her Dad, his voice a beacon in a sea of darkness, "we will get you to the clinic as soon as we can. In... and out... in... and out..."

By counting her breaths and concentrating on the passing city lights, Brienne just about managed to keep her fear and nervousness at bay as the car crawled across the city. Every time Jaime flitted across her mind - his imagined expression panicked or full of terror, Cersei's hand around his throat - she focussed on the pool of air filling and emptying her lungs that moved in time with her counting.

 _He'll be with me soon,_ she told herself. _Soon._

Those words had become a mantra and then a prayer by the time they finally reached the clinic. Her contractions were coming closer and closer together, so she had to cross the carpark while putting all her weight on her Dad's shoulder, as Sansa dashed inside to clear the way.

"Yes, yes! Over here! We have a pregnant lady right here!"

Overwhelmed with pain and the unexpected experience of it all, Brienne did not object when Sansa reappeared from inside the clinic with a nurse bearing a wheelchair. Neither did she complain when she was loaded into the chair, nor the speed at which she was rushed down the corridor, her dad and Sansa marching along beside her, little more than two rapidly moving blurs.

_Breathe in... and out... in... and out..._

The soothing coming in and going out of her own breath was interrupted when the wheelchair reached the final room along the corridor, which Brienne quickly discovered was occupied by Catelyn and one of the nurses she seemed to recall was named Jory.

"Mum! We came as soon as we could, but there was traffic! It has started! Brienne is giving birth! Brienne..."

Catelyn gave her daughter a kind but cautionary smile that instantly quietened Sansa, before turning to Brienne. "Hello, Brienne," said Catelyn gently but firmly, all at once the confident medical professional. "How are you?"

She laughed bitterly. "Not great."

While her Dad patted her consolingly on the shoulder, Sansa took charge once more and turned to Catelyn. "Her waters have broken," she said, her big eyes wide with worry. "Is that normal?"

"Perfectly. Some women's waters break days before any of the heavy lifting begins, some almost on the stroke of midnight. It makes no matter. The more important question is whether you have been having contractions and how far apart they are, Brienne."

Catelyn turned her calm, kind eyes on Brienne as she waited for an answer, but Brienne just shook her head uncertainly. She was so lost in her own fear she did not truly know. "I suppose I had a backache last night when I was in bed, but I was too busy thinking about Jaime to really concentrate on it. It didn't start getting really bad until after my waters broke and the contractions have been getting stronger and closer together since then."

"How close?" asked Catelyn gently.

Brienne shook her head, her eyes filling with tears once more. "I don't know," she mumbled. It was so difficult to think clearly when she was in pain, panicked, and wanted nothing more than to know Jaime was well, and for him to be here with her. Consequently, under Catelyn's kind gaze, her most pressing fear came out in a rush. "Has anyone heard from Jaime? Have you tried phoning him again?"

Catelyn and Sansa exchanged a concerned glance before the former turned back to Brienne, rested one had on her shoulder, and met her gaze quite forcefully. "Brienne," she said. "Your labour has started, and you need to be as relaxed as possible in order for this process to go smoothly. We will try and get in contact with Jaime, but for now you need to concentrate on _you_ and making sure your baby is alright, okay?"

At the thought of Alys - the little girl who she hoped had Jaime's green eyes, golden hair, and hidden, tender heart - Brienne drew in an anchoring breath. She had to remain calm.

_Breathe in... and out... in... and out..._

Not quite ready to speak, Brienne just nodded dumbly.

"Good," said Catelyn with an easy smile. "Now, if I can just ask you to get on the bed, I will have Jory take your blood pressure and measure the baby's heartbeat. Do you think you can do that for me?"

Although she was still trembling slightly, Brienne did what she was told and got on the bed. Catelyn went to talk to Jory, while Sansa came and held Brienne's hand. There was nervousness in her eyes, but also excitement.

"The contractions are about five minutes apart, I think," supplied Sansa once Brienne had laid down. "What does that mean?"

"That means everything is going as it should be," replied Catelyn, "but it would be best if we help to be calmer. Fear does nothing to help an expectant mother."

Perhaps sensing that the small herd of people in the room would only add to Brienne's anxiety, her Dad spoke up. "How many people are allowed in here, Catelyn?"

"Normally we allow just the birthing partner in," replied Catelyn, "but given that Jaime isn't here _yet_ ," - she lingered on that final word as a boon to Brienne - "we will let someone else stay in here with her until he arrives."

Brienne had expected that her Dad and Sansa would squabble over who should stay and who should go, but that war was avoided when her Dad gave Brienne a gentle nod.

"Would you prefer it if Sansa waits with you? I can go back out to the lobby and try to get in contact with Jaime."

At the consoling thought that _someone_ was thinking of getting in contact with her missing partner, Brienne just nodded, feeling somewhat relieved. Even if Jaime wasn't here yet, the knowledge that he soon would be was deeply soothing.

"Yes, that is fine. Just let me know the moment you have... oh, another one is coming, another one is coming!"

Her Dad stayed in the room with her, Catelyn, Sansa, and Jory until the contraction had passed and she was once again calmer, but the moment she was settled, he pressed a quick kiss to her cheek.

"Good luck starburst, I'll find your wayward boyfriend... and will try not to punch him when he actually turns up."

It was hard to say goodbye to her Dad, but Brienne was also somewhat relieved, because after he had shut the door behind him, Catelyn announced something rather embarrassing. "Right, if you can take your trousers and underwear off for me, Brienne, that would be wonderful. It is important for me to see how dilated you are." Although Catelyn spoke to her kindly and Jory kept her distracted by discussing the King's Landing traffic, if Brienne hadn't been in pain, she would have felt quite mortified at how Catelyn, Jory, and even Sansa ended up casually looking between her legs. Her shame only grew when another nurse brought in a hospital gown for her with instructions to change, and for a horrible moment thought Brienne would have to strip off in front of everyone in the room.

"No, don't worry, you can wait until Jory and I have left," said Catelyn, giving her yet another professional smile.

_I want Jaime... I want Jaime..._

"Leave?" replied Brienne nervously, anxious at the thought that the only two qualified people were discussing abandoning her. "Why would you leave?"

"Your cervix is dilated to six centimetres, which means you are still in the early stages of labour," said Catelyn.

"Early stages? But I _can't_ be. This already hurts enough!"

"There is still a way to go, I'm afraid." Although Catelyn's words were kind, Brienne could not help but be a little fearful when Jory whispered something in Catelyn's ear and passed her his notes, before taking the blood pressure cuff off her arm.

Brienne narrowed her eyes. "What does that mean? What did Jory just say?"

"At the moment, you are in active labour, and you will stay in this stage until you are dilated to seven centimetres. Until then, it is important that you relax and that we put you in contact with the midwife who will help you through this period and carry out important tests that need to be done."

Brienne vaguely remembered that this would be the likely progression of events from the birthing plan that she and Jaime had drawn up at Melisandre's classes, but all the details had run away from her in the storm of fear and pain which was now threatening to overwhelm her.

_If only Jaime was here, he would calm me down. He would be able to make sense of all this. He..._

Suddenly, she felt Sansa squeeze her hand. It seemed she was preparing to step up where Jaime wasn't able to. "How long will this stage last, Mum?"

"It could be ten minutes, it could be another three hours," replied Catelyn. It instantly made Brienne moan in horror. "So, after I have introduced you to Jeyne and she has carried out all the tests that need to be done, I will just leave the two of you in to rest. If Brienne has a birthing plan, it will be good if you can lead her through the active labour part of it, Sansa, until Jeyne can confirm she is dilated to seven centimetres... or until Jaime arrives."

With Sansa valiantly pledging to do everything she could, Brienne felt marginally more comfortable, yet her confidence collapsed a little when Catelyn brought the midwife in. Although her name badge clearly marked her out as _Jeyne Poole: Midwife,_ which was at least a little comforting, the girl still looked too young and inexperienced in Brienne's reckoning.

"Am I a bad person for wanting a midwife who is old and wrinkled and looks like they have delivered ten thousand babies before?" Brienne asked Catelyn as the latter went to leave the room along with Jory.

Catelyn chuckled. "I promise you, Brienne, that although Jeyne is young, she is very experienced. You are in safe hands."

That turned out to be true in more ways than one when, after Catelyn and Jory had left the room, Jeyne immediately set about putting her hands on Brienne's belly as she fixed a monitor to her skin.

"What is that for?" Brienne asked suspiciously, wishing Jaime was here to field these questions for her.

"It is just a machine that keeps track of baby's heartbeat and any contractions you may be experiencing," said Jeyne calmly. "It is all perfectly normal, even if it may look a bit scary."

Brienne had not thought a knot could tighten in her belly while going through labour, but as a new type of fear hit her, she learnt that it could. "Are you worried about Alys?" she asked. "Is she okay?"

Jeyne patted Brienne's shoulder consolingly. There was something in her kindness that told her that Jeyne had dealt with lots of scared mothers before. "As I said, everything is fine. This is just a routine procedure. You just need to stay calm."

Staying calm was harder than Brienne had anticipated, especially when Jeyne took her blood pressure again, measured her heartbeat, and then helped her into her hospital robe. After that, she once more checked between Brienne's legs before pronouncing her findings.

"Now, everything is going perfectly normally, I can assure you both, but at this stage of labour we usually ask the mother and birthing partner to wait it out together. Brienne, try to stay as relaxed as possible, listen to some music, maybe find a position you are comfortable in. Occasionally moving around helps too. Sansa, it is your job to keep Brienne calm; talk to her, bring her water if she needs it, and maybe some sweets of Brienne's choice to keep her energy up."

 _We don't have any sweets,_ thought Brienne despairingly, _they are all in the birthing bag with Jaime and he is... gods know where._

"I'll try my best," said Sansa, even through an emotion that sounded like nervousness. "I promise I will."

Jeyne smiled at them both reassuringly. "Good. I am just going update Catelyn, and I will leave the two of you alone. If you need me, I will be in the next room. If your contractions get closer, tell me. If you are in too much pain or worried, tell me. I will be in every fifteen minutes or so to check how dilated you are, to take your blood pressure, and to measure yours and baby's heartbeat. Is that okay, Brienne?"

That she now had some sort of plan made Brienne feel a little more relaxed, so she found herself nodding. "Yes, that's fine."

"I'll go and get Jeyne if you need anything, _anything,_ I promise," added Sansa.

With promises made, Jeyne - like Catelyn and Jory before her - retreated from the room. Sensing this left them both in an awkward and vulnerable space, Sansa instantly started busying herself. She moved round the room fussing with the curtains, pouring water, and asking questions about Brienne's birthing soundtrack rather than actually engaging with Brienne's fear.

"Do you want me to put on _Easy Listening FM_? Or I can find an album on my phone that might suit. Is there anything you like in particular, anything you--?"

"Sansa, where is he?"

At the thousandth utterance of that question, Sansa's patient smile dimmed. "I don't know. You heard what your dad said, we keep getting the answerphone."

"I know but... he's in trouble, I just know he is!"

The tears were upon her as quickly as Sansa's consoling arm around her shoulder and her soothing words. "You can't panic," she said firmly. "He's probably just somewhere where there is no reception..."

"I left him with Tywin. I left him with _her._ Gods, I'm so stupid. They've probably ripped him apart by now; that would be the only reason he's not here with me, because he _can't_ be with me."

At Brienne's ominous words, Sansa's expression turned concerned. "What do you mean, Brienne?"

In spite of the fact she was part way through labour, Brienne found herself telling Sansa everything; about the dinner at _Archon,_ their idea to use paparazzi photos as a bargaining chip, their return to the apartment, that Tywin, Cersei, and an army of Lannister lackeys were waiting for them, how they had tried to fight, and how Jaime had sent her away for her own good.

"I just _left him,_ Sansa, all on his own with those _monsters._ How could I do that to him, how--? Oh gods, here comes another one!"

Coming at the conclusion of her story, this contraction - which scooped out her insides and burned them on a pyre in front of her - felt like some sort of punishment. It was only Sansa's cool delicate hands grasping her own that acted as a tether to the real world, stopping her falling into the darkness.

"That's it... just breathe," coaxed Sansa as the contraction finally passed. "Just focus on me. Breathe..."

Brienne tried, but once the pain had passed, she was back to thoughts of Jaime and where on earth he could be. "But Jaime, he..."

"Focus on yourself, Brienne," Sansa instructed, squeezing Brienne's fingers. Her touch was strangely a lot more forceful than Jaime's ever could be. "Focus on _yourself_. Think about Jaime later. For now, just _breathe."_

_In... and out... in... and out..._

* * *

Brienne tried to keep all thoughts of Jaime at bay for the next two hours, which she only managed to partially succeed at because her contractions kept getting longer and closer together. Jeyne kept coming in every fifteen minutes to see how dilated Brienne was, to check her blood pressure, and to measure mother and baby's heartbeat. Yet every time she entered the room, she never had any positive news to impart.

"Not quite at seven centimetres yet," Jeyne would smile breezily every time she checked between Brienne's legs, "but perhaps not much longer now."

Brienne groaned as she climbed back onto the floor, more comfortable when she was on her knees with the bed to lean onto. "How am I not at seven fucking centimetres yet?"

Sansa gasped at Brienne's use of a swear word but was nevertheless on the floor next to her in a moment. "I'm sorry, but you heard Mum. These things take time. It could be hours."

"It has already been hours!" cried Brienne. "And the contractions are... oh no, oh fuck, ow, ow, _oowww!!"_

This contraction was probably the worst one yet, lasting almost forty five seconds. Although Sansa kept speaking to her soothingly and telling her the most encouraging things, Brienne just wanted to block out the world, block out the pain, so she squeezed her eyes shut and tensed every muscle in her body, her back arching and her fingers digging into the bed.

She was so lost in her agony that she barely heard the door open.

"He's here!" came her Dad's breathless voice, as the swinging door went slamming against the wall. "He's late, but he's here!"

Brienne opened her eyes just at the moment Jaime came skidding into the room, still wearing the Stormlander suit he had put on for their dinner at _Archon_ the night before. Yet there were differences; the gold cufflinks were gone, his tie was undone, and he looked almost as tired as Brienne felt.

"Jaime!" she cried, the tears upon her once again at the sight of his weary face. They only started to roll down her cheeks when the contraction once again passed. "Where have you been?"

Barely noticing that Sansa was in the way, Jaime charged forward in order to get down on the floor with Brienne, his expensive suit be damned. "Doesn't matter, all that matters is that I am here now. How are you, Brienne? How are you feeling?"

"Shit." The word had come forward wrapped in a mess of tears and bitter humour, which made Jaime smile. "We had a birthing plan, but it has all gone to shit."

"I tried my best," interjected Sansa somewhat sadly, but the only consolation she got was Jaime waving a hand at in an apology on Brienne's behalf.

All his attention was on Brienne.

"It will all be okay, wench. I'm here now. It will all be fine."

In spite of the fact she wanted to swear and scream at him, demanding to know what had gone on with Tywin and Cersei in her absence, to tell him that her pain was _all his fault,_ that feeling passed when Jaime came to sit behind her, his legs wrapped around her, just has he had in Melisandre's birthing class. There was something about his chest rising and falling against her back that instantly made her take stock of her breathing and relax her shoulders, which were still full of tension after the last contraction.

"Selwyn, would you mind getting the oil out of the birthing bag? It is useful if Brienne wants me to massage her," Jaime said, gesturing towards the birthing bag that had been abandoned by the door. "And Sansa, would you mind going through my phone which is also in the bag and finding _Brienne's Playlist?_ It is all the songs we settled on."

"Oh, of course," said Brienne's dad, as he found the oil. As Jaime took the oil with a thanks and began to rub some onto his hands, music seemed to come from somewhere. It was only then that Brienne noticed that Sansa had already located the phone, crossed the room, fixed it up to some speakers, and was now playing the first piece of music on the birthing playlist.

In spite of the pain, Brienne could not help but smile. Her family and friends really were the sweetest.

"How far apart are your contractions, wench?"

Brienne shrugged, clueless, so Sansa answered for her.

"About three minutes."

Although she could not see his expression, there was a sudden tension in the fingers that were dancing over the naked expanse of her back that told her Jaime was nervous. "I think you should get Catelyn, or the midwife. Three minutes seems quite close."

"I have to get to seven centimetres," said Brienne sullenly, "and knowing my luck I probably haven't got there yet. I haven't for the past two hours."

In spite of her glibness, her Dad and Sansa seemed to recognise Jaime's authority, as they closed ranks in agreement. "Yes, we'll go find the midwife," agreed her Dad, nodding. "Come on Sansa, let's leave them to it."

"And... if you don't mind... maybe then we will go and get some coffee."

A spike of irritation rose in the pit of her stomach. "Oh, a _coffee._ What I would give to be sitting a cafe drinking coffee right now."

"Sorry starburst," grinned her Dad, "coffee is only for people not in the middle of giving birth."

While Brienne rolled her eyes, Jaime kissed her on the cheek and let out a little laugh. "Come on, Brienne, you are going to get to see our baby soon. That is surely worth much more than a coffee."

 _Yes, it is worth more,_ thought Brienne as her Dad and Sansa finally retreated from the room, _but when those contractions come, it doesn't feel like it._

* * *

If Brienne had been looking forward to being dilated to seven centimetres, she quickly decided she was a ruddy fool, as what came afterwards was even worse.

"Fuck. _Fuck._ It hurts so much, Jaime! It fucking _kills."_

"I know, wench," he replied, kneeling in front of her, letting her lean on his shoulders for support instead of the bed, "but you can do this. You are the strongest person I have ever met; you can do anything."

She let out a bitter laugh. "Am I?"

"Of course. I believe in you; you are my knight in shining armour. I love you so much, wench, and I know you can do this."

Although that passionate declaration was a modification of a piece of dialogue from _The Kingslayer and the Wench,_ Brienne knew that Jaime ardently felt it, as his gaze was full of such love there was no mistaking it for anything else.

 _I can do this,_ she thought. _For him. For us. For our family._

She tried to hold onto the thought that every minute brought her closer to holding their baby every time a contraction took her. After she had dilated to seven centimetres, Catelyn, Jeyne, and Jory were in the room with her permanently, talking her through things.

"That's it, you can squeeze Jaime's hand if you want to," said Jeyne during one particularly terrible contraction. Brienne did what she was told and attempted not to feel a type of vindictive pleasure as she ground his fingers together.

"Alright, you don't have to squeeze _that_ hard."

"Oh I do," she groaned. "I'm in _agony."_

And that agony did not seem to end for a long, long time. Once she got to seven centimetres, there was a particularly agonising hour when it seemed as if the rolling waves of pain and blood would never end. The only things she had to tether herself to her sanity were Jaime's body beside her and his kind words that fell from his lips like rain.

"You are doing brilliantly, wench," he would say, kissing her forehead. "Absolutely marvellously."

It did not feel that way, so Brienne told him so. "It hurts so much, Jaime. Like I am being ripped open... like I am going to die..."

"You are not going to die," he whispered, his kisses as soft as petals of a flower. "You are going to live to see our baby. You are going to survive this."

"But it hurts so _much."_

Brienne was glad that Jaime was here with her, because when the pain got too much for her, almost so unbearable that she could not speak or even think rationally, he was there to be her mouthpiece.

"I think Brienne could do with some pain relief options now, Catelyn. What do you recommend?"

Supported by Jaime, Brienne soon found that the face mask for the use of gas and air being thrust into her hand, and she was quickly so dependent on it that she preferred it to oxygen.

"Jaime, gods, it hurts so much..."

"I know, wench, I know, but it will soon be over, I promise, I promise."

 _Soon_ turned out to be very long indeed. After an hour of what felt like the contractions kept coming at her as speedily as an enemy's blows in a swordfight, their frequency once again slowed, but now it felt as if when they did come, it was for much longer and from someplace much deeper. She once again found herself on the bed as she began the stage of labour that Jeyne declared was actual delivery, although this time Jaime wedged behind her, holding her steady.

"Gods, I hate you for ever talking me into this," Brienne said to Jaime in one of the few quiet moments between contractions. "It is fucking agony."

At that declaration, Jaime gave her one of his lopsided grins that she was more used to seeing when they were sitting on the sofa together talking about nothing, or if they were curled up in bed after sex, him teasing her about her shyness.

"What?" he smiled. "You would be so much poorer if you hadn't agreed."

"I'm not sure if this is worth ten thousand dragons."

His grin grew larger. "I am not talking about the dragons. I am talking about the fact that you would have never fallen in love with me."

In a strange way, that teasing joke which was only meant lightly, was the thing that got her through the final ocean of pain. That she had Jaime at her back - both figuratively and practically - was an immense happiness that had unexpectedly come into her life only because she was pushing this baby out from between her thighs. And now she was going to have Alys, they were going to be complete in a whole new way.

"You have to push now," announced Jeyne suddenly, even though she had been telling Brienne for the past three hours _not_ to push. "You are dilated as much as you can, so there is no holding back now. When the feeling takes you... _push."_

And, by gods, did the feeling take her. As the pain washed over her - hot, bright, and soul-severing - she gripped hold of Jaime's legs, wanting to know he was there.. His arms were wrapped around her and his mouth was by her ear. He said the sweetest things.

"You are the light of my life, the best thing that has ever happened to me. You have brought me so much happiness, taught me what love is, and helped me banish shadows from my life that I did not even know where there. If anyone can do this, wench, it is you. And I believe in you and I love you and I'm here and I'm sorry and I..."

"Oh god, here comes another one!"

What began as a whine was soon as scream, and she was thrashing in Jaime's arms as Catelyn, Jeyne, and Jory instructed her to push, _push, PUSH._

"You are so nearly there!" declared Catelyn, as she moved past Jeyne to check between Catelyn's legs. "So close, so _so_ close."

"Did you hear that? You are so nearly there, my brave, brave Brienne," said Jaime, wrapping one arm around her and stroking her hair out her face with his bad hand. "Not long now out all, just a few more pushes."

Brienne nodded, trying to find hope, but then she sensed the pain in the distance and, before she could stop it, it was seizing her in its fist and gripping her so tightly she could barely breathe.

"Oh god, it's coming! It's coming!"

"You can do this, wench. I know you can. One, two, three... _push!"_

Summoning all her energy, Brienne pushed, fighting this battle that had almost turned into a war with only Jaime at her back to guard her. The pain so acute, so exquisite, that it was almost transcendent, and for a brief moment, Brienne felt as if she was hovering over the scene. She watched as Jaime squeezed her fingers, as Catelyn and Jory cheered her one, and Jeyne waited to deliver the news that it was all over.

 _Nearly,_ Brienne thought, not able to think of any other words.

_Nearly..._

_Nearly..._

_Nearly..._

The pain finally, _finally_ ended when there was a moment of release and Brienne felt the child slip out between her legs. Jeyne was there to catch her, yet even as the midwife lifted her up, Brienne was almost too overwhelmed to feel anything but relief. Feeling enough emotion for the two of them, Jaime began laughing in her ear and saying sweet, nonsensical things she could barely understand.

"Oh, well done Brienne!" said Jory, as Catelyn and Jeyne shielded the baby from her view. Brienne might have thought to worry, but less than a moment later, a healthy baby's cry rent the air, and the two women turned back towards the bed revealing a squalling, pink babe.

"Listen to the lungs on her!" cried Jaime triumphantly, laughing and kissing Brienne's cheek as if he could not contain his joy. "You can tell she is going to be a chatterbox!"

Yet Brienne was almost too overwhelmed to speak. Blinking in the strange light, she suddenly realised that she had had no idea what time it was. Catelyn was still down at the bottom of the bed, holding the baby almost upside down, as she cleaned her little face, removing any extraneous mucus or birthing fluid from her nose and mouth. Once she was done, she turned back to Brienne, smiling.

"Congratulations. You have a little girl."

The tears were upon her before she knew how to properly react, but this time they were not tears of pain or frustration. No. Now, they were tears of utmost joy at the little life that had just been brought into the world.

"Oh, look," said Brienne, not able to come up with any more words as she squeezed Jaime's knee beside her. " _Look_."

Catelyn smiled at her wonder with a fondness that felt personal. "Jaime, do you want to come and cut the umbilical cord?" she asked, as she rested the baby on Brienne's lap. "It seems only fitting the new father do it."

It took such an effort for a bright eyed Jaime to shimmy out from behind Brienne and walk down the bed to meet Catelyn, that Brienne barely noticed that she passed the placenta, or that Jory was already checking between her legs for tears. Although cutting the cord might have looked gory - with the clamps and the sterile scissors - but there was such joy and excitement on Jaime's face that Brienne could not bring herself to be revolted. Instead, she just felt apart of something nameless, something bigger than herself, that she had never truly appreciated was there before, even as she and her baby were separated from one another.

Once the cord had been cut, there was nothing stopping Jaime scooping baby Alys into his arms - not caring about the mess she transferred to his suit - and brought her closer for Brienne to see.

"Look what we did, Brienne!" he cried, his eyes filling with tears as he came up to her end of the bed with a small, naked squalling child in his arms. "Oh gods, she's so... she's so... _perfect_..."

Jaime was crying by the time he managed to reach her, perching on the edge of the bed and bringing her close. Although Brienne was so tired it almost felt bone deep, she could not resist mustering up the little energy she had to reach up and taking their little girl into her arms. She was light, but at the same time there was a substantial weight to her that imbued her with such meaning and value that Brienne joined Jaime in his tears.

"Alys," smiled Brienne, gazing down at her little miracle as her whole body seemed to come alight with wonder. "Welcome to the world, little one." Grinning from ear to ear, Brienne turned to look at Jaime. "Oh, look at her, isn't she beautiful?"

"So beautiful, wench," replied Jaime warmly as he pulled Brienne and their baby into his arms. He kissed her temple before he spoke again. "Oh gods, _look at her_!"

"I know," smiled Brienne, turning to kiss his cheek in return as she laughed at the lack of words that they both seemed to possess for articulating their joy. "I know."

Catelyn was smiling at them both warmly, with a hint of pride buried under her professionalism. "Normally, I would say it is a good idea to keep Mama and baby close at this point to encourage bonding, but it is entirely up to you two as to what you want to do."

When Jaime tightened his hold around her shoulder, Brienne knew she had her answer. All three of them were part of something magical, and she was loathe to destroy it.

"I'll keep hold of her," she grinned, "even though I'm exhausted."

Catelyn nodded. "Alright. You hold her tight. I will just get something to swaddle her if..."

"Oh Brienne! Look!"

At Jaime's excitable declaration, Brienne turned her gaze from Catelyn back to Jaime, only to find that he wanted her to look at Alys. Obliging him, Brienne peered down at her baby - _their_ baby - only to discover Alys had used all the energy in her tiny body to open her eyes.

To Brienne's surprise, they were a lovely shade of blue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHHHH Alys is finally here!!!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed that, and thanks once again for reading.


	50. Part L

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime comes to terms with the fact he is now a father...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! As a little treat, here is another chapter. I hope you enjoy!

Immediately after Alys' birth, Jaime almost couldn't form coherent sentences given the amount of love that was flowing through him, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes; golden, shining, and perfect.

Little Alys was the sweetest, most precious thing he had ever seen in his life. She looked so little and weak in Brienne's arms that the sight made Jaime feel as if he could fight off any monsters that would dare hurt her, armed with only his bare hands, and shield her from any darkness that would encroach in the night. It made him feel invincible. Then there was Brienne; she looked exhausted, but also strangely tranquil and devoid of the anxiety that was usually knotted about her. That she finally had hold of such a peace made Jaime want to sing. Wrapping his arms around them both, Jaime realised he was finally experiencing love exactly how it was meant to be.

"Thank you," Jaime mumbled into Brienne's hair while Catelyn, Jeyne, and Jory were distracted by tests and filling out patient forms. "Thank you for everything you've given me."

Brienne tilted her head so she could look at him, and her blue eyes were bright. "As you told me during the birth," she said teasingly, "you paid me ten thousand dragons."

"I'm not just talking about you being a surrogate," he replied. "I'm talking about everything... everything we have. I never... I never really knew it could be like this."

The corners of Brienne's eyes crinkled as she smiled, and Jaime found himself doubting whether the wonders of the world could ever compete. "Well, I'll thank you too, then," she said gently. "Thank you, Jaime. I never even dreamed I would one day have any of... _this_."

He did not need to ask what _this_ was. It was a family. It was a home. It was a baby. It was love. It was the three of them, together forever.

"Brienne, I think is now the time we should get Alys to breast feed," said Catelyn, easing her way into the warm moment. She gestured to Jeyne, who was smiling sweetly at the sight of mother and baby together. "Jeyne will help you through this process, but Jory and I will have to say goodbye for now because we have other patients to attend to. Unless you have any questions, or anything else you need..."

Knowing it was Brienne's body that had been put through the ringer over the last few hours, Jaime let her take the lead in asking questions. "I don't have any questions," she began, before suddenly changing her mind, "except, what time is it?"

Catelyn checked the watch hanging from her lapel. "It has just gone nine o'clock," she smiled, as Brienne turned to look out at the car park, which was shrouded in darkness, through the window. "So once you have breast fed the baby, it may be a good idea to get some sleep."

"Don't worry, that is my plan," giggled Brienne.

Given how brightly she was smiling and how happy she looked, Jaime could not help but press a kiss to her forehead. Alys wiggled in Brienne's arms.

Wanting nothing more than as much privacy as possible with his family, Jaime turned to look at Catelyn and Jory. "Thank you so much for everything, both of you. I would have been overwhelmed with worry when Selwyn told me Brienne had gone into labour if I didn't know you were here with her."

"Thank you," replied Jory, clearly touched by Jaime's words. "It is nice to know that our work is appreciated."

Brienne joined in thanking Catelyn and Jory before they finally left the room, leaving Jaime, Brienne, and Alys entirely in Jeyne's care. She immediately came over with a warmer blanket, which she folded neatly at the bottom of the bed, before addressing Brienne once more.

"Now, it is probably best to start you breast feeding," said Jeyne carefully. Brienne looked at the midwife a little nervously, as if she were searching for direction, so Jeyne replied with another smile. "The best way to do this is by having skin-to-skin contact. It helps mother feel bonded and the baby feel safe."

Brienne furrowed her brow. "Skin-to-skin, what does that mean?"

"Normally, it means you would take your hospital gown off, we'd rest baby on your chest, and then cover you both up with the blanket to keep you warm. You would try to breast feed in that position and then maybe let baby stay on your chest for a while."

As he could tell that Brienne was a little apprehensive about trying to breast feed for the first time, Jaime moved his mouth close to her ear in order to speak to her soothingly.

"You can do it, wench. Come on. I'll help you any way you can."

Given that Brienne was still sore and tired, she needed help getting out of her hospital gown and then under the blanket. Jaime diligently made sure Brienne was comfortable with the amount of skin revealed to Jeyne as she got changed, then fixed the blanket around her so she was cosy.

"Is that alright?" he asked, before pressing another kiss to her forehead, just to triple check. "Or do you want to be sat up a little more?"

"No, laying down like this is fine. In fact, I like it like this."

"Are you sure you don't want more pillows? To feel supported?" he asked.

"No, I promise Jaime, this is fine... although I would like it if you sat on the bed so you can be close to Alys and I."

Jaime could not help but smile like an idiot as he complied with her request, as it still shocked him that Brienne liked and allowed him these easy intimacies. Wanting to feel even closer, Jaime rested his hand on her leg, enjoying the warmth of her through the blanket. He intended his touch as a comfort to her, but it ended up being more of a comfort to himself.

 _Brienne and Alys, my girls,_ he thought dreamily as he watched Jeyne lower Alys down onto Brienne's chest, and then helped the baby latch onto Brienne's nipple. _My darling family._

As Alys began to suck - her cheeks quickly puffing in and out - Brienne pulled a not completely satisfied face, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

"I don't think it is working," she said unhappily. "It doesn't feel right."

Jeyne smiled at her sympathetically; it was obvious she had seen such nerves in other first time mothers before. "It can take some time to express milk. It would perhaps help if you pumped your breast."

"I've only got two hands! I'm holding her!"

"Then maybe Jaime can pump your breast for you?"

When Brienne looked a tiny bit horrified by that idea, Jaime could not help but laugh. It felt so easy given how happy he was. "Why do you look so unhappy, wench? I've touched your boobs before."

"Yeah," she said, going to colour of a tomato at the mention of what they did together in front of their midwife, "but that is different. When you are touching my boobs normally it is because _we_... I mean _you_... like it. Now it would be like you are milking a cow!"

Jaime rolled his eyes good-humouredly. "Just stop complaining and let me help you. New mothers have to suffer all sorts of indignities and you've already gone through worse today, so come on... let me milk you."

"You are so gross," said Brienne, pulling a face.

"But you love me," Jaime grinned, "even if I am gross."

Although she seemed determined to remain grumpy with him, the corners of Brienne's mouth turned up in a smile as she met his gaze. "Alright, I'll let you help, but please be serious! No cow jokes."

"No cow jokes, I promise," said Jaime, leaning forward to kiss her once more, demonstrating his sincerity. "Just let me help you, I want to help you."

As he was so familiar with his wench, Jaime saw the moment that Brienne's resistance crumbled, as she moved the blanket slightly to give him better access to both the baby and her boobs. Making sure to go as gently as possible, Jaime followed Jeyne's instructions as the midwife showed him how to pump Brienne's breast.

"Tell me if I am hurting you."

Although she was tired, Brienne somehow found it in herself to smile at him affectionately. "You are not hurting me," she murmured. "You could never hurt me."

 _No,_ he agreed. _I could never wilfully hurt you._

After a few moments, Alys finally succeeded in breast feeding for the first time, so Jaime was able to stop treating his girlfriend like a cow. However, he still wanted to be close, so he knelt down on the floor beside the bed and rested his head on Brienne's shoulder. It put him at the perfect angle to watch Alys drink. He had thought it would be weird to watch Brienne feed their daughter, but now he was here seeing it happen, it felt intimate, natural, and _real._ It almost surprised him that he had ever wanted any of Cersei's airbrushed beauty.

"Baby doesn't need much milk for the first few days," said Jeyne from the foot of the bed. "Just short bursts every hour. As the weeks go by, you will be able to feed less regularly but for longer."

As Jeyne gave her advice, Brienne lifted her gaze from Alys to look at the midwife. "How do I know when to stop?"

"Baby will let you know and will detach herself... oh, it looks like she has just done so."

Alys pulled such a funny face when she let go of Brienne's nipple that Jaime could not help but laugh, his whole chest filling with warmth as he gazed at her. He almost wished the bed was bigger, so he could climb in beside Brienne and Alys and wrap himself around them both. It was where he belonged, after all.

"Jaime," said Brienne sleepily, tilting her head so she could look him in the eyes. "I am so tired."

She looked so soft and vulnerable that Jaime felt compelled to lean forward to press a kiss to her chapped lips. Brienne smiled against his mouth. "Okay, wench," he said the moment he broke the kiss, before turning to Jeyne. "Is it alright if she has some rest?"

"Of course," replied the midwife. "While Brienne has a nap, you can hold the baby, Jaime, or just put her in the crib we provide." She gestured towards the crib that sat by the window, currently empty.

Sitting up, Jaime stretched his arms. "I'm a responsible adult, I can hold Alys while Brienne sleeps. I am Alys' Dad, after all."

 _Dad._ The word nearly caught in his throat.

"You are her Daddy, Jaime," Brienne murmured. Her blue eyes seemed to shine like freshly discovered sapphires. "She's going to be so pleased."

At Brienne's simple, sweet sincerity, Jaime nearly wept.

* * *

Sometime later, Jaime found himself in Brienne's private room with the lights dimmed. Jeyne had left them both so Brienne could get some rest, and Brienne had fallen asleep not long after. Jaime would have been lovingly gazing at his sleeping Baby Mama - her chest rising and falling as she snored - if it weren't for the fact that he had just been proclaimed Alys' Dad, and now had his new daughter bundled in his arms against his chest.

"Hello baby girl," Jaime whispered to Alys, his voice like a lullaby. "Welcome to the world."

Wanting to be close to Alys, Jaime had taken his top off in order to feel near to her. If skin-to-skin contact was important for mother and baby, why not him?

Jaime could not help but smile as he felt her warm against him, "I hope you like it... the world I mean," he said. "Sometimes it is very cruel and harsh... and sometimes it can seem as if there is only darkness. But that is not true. Sometimes you meet people who open the window for you and remind you that the sun still shines on the darkest of days." He stole a glance at Brienne and was silently thankful that she was not awake to hear him being so sentimental.

"She'll be your sunshine," he told Alys, marvelling at her pale skin and the shadow of gold hair on the crown of her head. "And you can be mine."

Alys wiggled slightly as Jaime spoke and he took it as confirmation that she had accepted his offer. It made his eyes blur with tears.

"You'll be my starlight and moonshine too," he promised. "And I will do anything I need to do to protect you. I swear. By all the gods, I swear."

Jaime had just bent down to press a kiss to Alys' forehead when the door creaked open, revealing the nurse Jory. Peaking round the door, he spoke in a hushed voice as he conveyed his message, as if he were scared that someone was listening in.

"Mr Lannister, there are some people at reception waving round papers demanding entry. One of them said she was your baby's mother. I thought it was best if..."

Jaime's stomach sank as quickly as stone being thrown into a lake. He had thought he would have time. In the hours he had spent with his Father and Cersei at his apartment - in which they had fought, screamed, shouted, and bartered - Jaime had thought he had bought him and Brienne time. Yet the enemy was already at the gate, and Brienne was entirely unaware what she was about to face.

Looking down at his daughter, Jaime knew what he had to do.

"Jory, would you mind watching Alys for a moment? I need to speak to our... _guests_ and Brienne needs to rest. She's already been fed, so she should hopefully just sleep through."

"Of course," replied Jory, holding his arms out to take the baby. "I'll put her in the crib and watch over her."

As Jaime's stomach roiled in fear, he offered Jory his gratitude. "Thanks, Jory. I shouldn't be too long."

 _I won't be too long,_ thought Jaime angrily. _I have Brienne and Alys to look after._

* * *

Once he was dressed, Jaime stormed down to the clinic's waiting room, where he discovered his Father and Cersei waiting. Tywin Lannister looked as if he had just walked out of a board meeting, as he was wearing a crisp burgundy suit with lion head gold cufflinks. Cersei was dressed more for the cover of a high fashion magazine and, despite the fact it was dark outside, she had a huge pair of sunglasses perched atop her head. There were a few other people scattered around the waiting room - sleeping or talking in hushed voices as they waited for their appointments - but the moment Jaime entered the room, they became the audience to the unfolding drama.

"Ah, Jaime," said his Father gently, his voice as smooth as butter even though he was set to pounce. "I wondered whether you would still be here. I've come to see my granddaughter."

Jaime's top lip curled into a snarl. "Well, you are not seeing her. Get out."

At his reaction, Jaime's father let out a little coughing sound that one might mistake for a laugh if you only heard it in passing. Jaime knew better. "Oh Jaime," he said, his voice like a sharpening knife. "Jeyne is my _heir,_ it is only right I see her. I am her grandfather."

"And it is only right she sees me, too," butted in Cersei with a flick of her hair. "I told you last night that I have our mother and baby photoshoot booked in a week's time, so I need to get hold of her _now._ I need to work out the colour scheme, so I need to see her skin tone. Some babies can look washed out in pink."

Trying to ignore the fact that they were now being stared at like monkeys in a zoo by the small audience in the waiting room, Jaime stood his ground. "And I told you that you are not seeing Alys. You do not care about her, you do not want her, you are not her mother, so I am not letting you _anywhere_ near her, do you understand?"

Jaime had hoped that Cersei would feel suitably threatened to back off, but instead she stepped into his personal space, just as she had done the previous night. Although he had spent hours and hours trying to bargain with her, nothing had seemingly sunk in, as Cersei pulled out a piece of paper from her clutch bag that Jaime knew was a copy of the document that was covered in Brienne's signature.

"Au contraire, Jaime," she smirked. "This piece of paper legally declares that I am her mother, and you know as well as I do that there is nothing you can do to get round it. I could just walk into that room right now and take that kid off Brianna's tit - complete with tears and screaming - and you couldn't stop me. Nobody could, because I am Cersei Marbrand and _nobody_ gets in the way of what I want."

The thought of Brienne and Alys' newfound peace being torn apart by a fame hungry celebrity driven by nothing but her own greed made Jaime draw his claws. In a flash, he was looming over Cersei, all angry god, wanting her to feel as small and as insignificant as she had often made him feel.

"Gods, Cersei," he growled, trying to keep his voice quiet even though his rage was white hot. "I will rip you apart if you dare hurt either of them."

She laughed. It was the type of titter she used on the red carpet for the paparazzi, when she wanted to make them think she was lovable and sincere. "How? I have all the legal means to take my daughter, and you _know_ it."

"Varys thinks he has a few pictures of you and Brienne eating at _Archon,_ so what?" added Jaime's father. Where Cersei was all fire and brimstone, he tried a false charm. "That will be old news in a week. We have legal documentation that makes Cersei the baby's mother, whatever you think, so if you do not comply with my wishes and marry Cersei, I will _make_ you."

Jaime let out a bitter laugh, an echo of Cersei's. For the entirety of the previous night, the three of them had gone round and round in circles with this same conversation; Cersei saying she needed to think about good optics for her career, his father talking about legacy and _Lannister Industries_ , and Jaime shouting into the night that all he wanted was his girlfriend, his daughter, and their little family.

"We are not playing games here," barked his father, "but it seems you are. It is clear you think you have some ace in your hand, but you don't. The surrogate gave away her rights to the child when she signed this document." He pointed sharply at the piece of paper that Cersei brandished before him. "You went along with it, so there is no good objecting now. And I am telling you, if you continue with this foolish idea of living the dream with that ugly surrogate of yours, I will be making a case for joint custody alongside Cersei."

At the sight of his father's cool glare and Cersei's mischievous grin, it all fell into place for Jaime. His father did not want to be a grandfather, he wanted total control of yet another Lannister piece on the board. Whether she was Alys or Jeyne, all that mattered to Jaime's father was that she was a Lannister. He would use Cersei, who would prefer sunning herself in Dorne to actual mothering, to side-line Jaime and hold dominion over Alys. That his father would do something so cruel would have once broken Jaime's heart, but now it just made him angry. Snatching the document out of Cersei's hand, he ripped it in half and thre it on the floor, much to the shock of his enraptured audience. He then turned to his father, to Cersei, and back again, giving them both his most vicious glare. He would not be defeated.

"Cersei is not Alys' mother and will never be, and I will fight you both with everything I have to make sure it stays that way."

Knowing if he stayed a moment longer he would break something, Jaime turned on his heel in order to return to Brienne and Alys, but he was stopped in his tracks by one of Cersei's tinkling laughs.

"Oh Jaime, you are so sweet. You think you can fight us with nothing but determination and hope. I'm telling you now, you can't. I could storm into Brienne's room right now and take the baby if I wanted. If you tried to stop me, I could have you arrested for kidnap."

Jaime shot Cersei a withering look over his shoulder, which he hoped cut down deep to her soul. "Brienne has control over who enters her hospital room if nothing else. She has just given birth. So all your scheming will have to wait until she and Alys are home."

Cersei laughed again, and it felt like poison.

"Tick tock, Jaime."

"Yes," agreed his father coolly. "Tick tock."

Not wanting to put up with either of them a moment more, Jaime hurriedly returned to Brienne's room, wanting to be safe behind that simple protection a door could offer.

 _What am I going to do?_ he thought desperately. _How am I going to keep them safe?_

The previous evening, he had argued with his father, Cersei, and the Lannister lawyers using everything he had, yet he had not been able to get them to budge. The law was unequivocal on Alys' maternity - Cersei was her mother - and there was nothing he could do about it. The only thing that had stopped the conversation descending into how many hours exactly Tywin was going to permit Brienne to spend with her daughther was when Selwyn arrived with news of Brienne's labour and dragged Jaime off to Catelyn's clinic. Ever since, Jaime had been wrapped up first in anxiety for Brienne and then happiness at Alys' arrival. Lost in the joy of Alys' birth, Jaime had been able to pretend for a brief moment that everything was going to be okay.

 _How can I persuade Cersei?_ he wondered.

_How can I persuade my father?_

_Or do Brienne, Alys, and I need to run somewhere far away, where no one will find us?_

His fears were still dancing through his mind when he returned to the room. He had expected a moment alone to contemplate his thoughts, to find the words to explain what was going on, but instead he found Brienne awake, lying on the bed with Alys in her arms. It made him melt.

"Where have you been?" she asked gently. "Is everything alright?"

He swallowed. Given how perfect the scene before him was, Jaime did not want to poison it with the truth. It was so much easier to lie.

"Yes, everything is fine. How is Alys getting on?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! As ever, I would love to hear what you think in the form of a comment or kudos :)


	51. Part LI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne receives a surprise visitor...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is yet another chapter of Baby Mama. I am on a little bit of a roll at the moment with this fic (to my immense surprise). Hopefully, I will be able to get a move on with my other fics soon too.
> 
> Thank you for reading this chapter, and I hope you like it!
> 
> PS. There is a small quote from book canon in this quote, so well done for spotting it!

The day after Brienne gave birth to Alys, she was ready to receive visitors. While she was still exhausted and sore both from the birth and having to feed Alys every hour, Brienne was happy to get a taste of normality back again, even if it was only her Dad and Sansa being overexcited to see the baby.

"Oh gosh, she's so beautiful, Brienne," said Sansa as she held Alys in her arms. Alys' little hands opened and closed as she reached up towards Sansa, perhaps trying to grasp onto a strand of fire red hair or just catch her affectionate smile in her pudgy little fingers. At the sight of her baby living and breathing and growing, Brienne could not help but grin.

Brienne's Dad seemingly agreed with Sansa's summation. "If I didn't know better, I would say she was biologically yours, Starburst. Look at her eyes! They are the exact colour yours were on the day you were born."

Nodding awkwardly, Brienne turned to look at Jaime, who was sitting in the room's one chair in the corner. Since the birth, he had not left her side; he had taken Alys so she could rest, had helped Brienne to the shower, and had cuddled her when she had become a little overwhelmed by the gore and the beauty of it all. Due to all his hard work, Jaime was teetering on the edge of sleep, his eyelids fluttering closed every few seconds.

 _My own Sleeping Beauty,_ she thought, amused.

However, Jaime's slumber did not last long as the moment Brienne's Dad mentioned Alys' blue eyes, his eyes snapped back open, suddenly focussed. "Baby's eyes can change colour though," he said sharply, rubbing his face with the back of his hand, "between six and eight months. I looked it up."

Brienne raised an eyebrow at him. "You looked it up?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"I... I..." After a few moments of trying to compose an answer, Jaime sighed and settled back into the chair, closing his eyes once more. "It... it was... I... oh, don't worry. I just really like the colour of her eyes and I was hoping that she might keep them."

"They'll turn green eventually," said Brienne, holding her arms out so Sansa could give Alys back. "Both you and Cersei have green eyes, after all."

A slight tension appeared in Jaime's face at the mention of Cersei, but Brienne did not question why, not when her Dad and Sansa were still in the room. They still had not spoken about what had passed between Jaime, his father, and his ex-girlfriend during the hours that they had been separated, and Brienne did not want to push him. Not only was she tired, but she was sure Jaime would tell her when he was ready. Given his silence, she hoped it was good news.

"I kinda hope they stay blue," mused Jaime, sounding immensely sleepy. "Like your Dad said... you had blue eyes when you were born... maybe she'll be like you... her mum..."

Laughing to himself, Brienne's Dad went and patted Jaime on the shoulder, making him open his eyes once more. "Come on lad, have you had any sleep at all? You are mumbling about blue eyes. Maybe you should go home and get some rest."

At that suggestion, Jaime evidently decided to prove that he was wide awake and shot out of his chair. Stretching and shaking his arms and legs in turn, he tried to look as awake as possible, even though Brienne could see in his slightly peaky complexion that he was exhausted.

"I'm fine, I promise. Brienne is the one who has given birth and Alys is not yet a day old. I've got to be there for them, I've got..."

His passionate declaration was interrupted by an oversized yawn and a little shiver, which just made Brienne laugh.

"Jaime, stop being silly, you are _exhausted,"_ she smiled. "Why don't you go home and have a shower and a proper rest? I can look after Alys."

To her surprise, he pulled a displeased face. "I know you can, but you've just given _birth._ You've done all the hard work and deserve to sleep. Not me."

"Don't play the martyr," she chided him affectionately. "Honestly, I'll be fine. You took Alys for a long time last night, so I had plenty of rest. And I know you will be back as soon as you can."

There was something in the way that Jaime's expression momentarily turned desperate that made a ribbon of tension knot itself in her stomach. Perhaps he was worrying about something, something he did not want to name. He didn't help matters by averting his gaze.

"I just don't want you to be alone, wench."

"I won't be alone," she said, wanting to reassure him. To her relief, Jaime managed to look into her eyes. "I'll have Catelyn, Jeyne, and Jory to help me. And, anyway, I don't imagine Catelyn will keep me in here much longer. I didn't have any complications during the birth and Alys is thriving. We can go home soon."

At that idea, Jaime went white.

"No, you need all the medicine... all the doctors. You can't go home!"

Given his strangely frantic tone, Brienne was about to interrupt him and ask him what his weird mood was about, why he was panicking about nothing, but then her Dad slapped Jaime on the back and smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Lad, it is okay to be worried and feel a little powerless right now, but running yourself into the ground is not going to help anyone. You should let Sansa and I drive you home. When you are well rested, showered, and have changed into something more comfortable than that suit, you will be much more help to Brienne than if you are tired, irritable, and falling asleep every five seconds."

"But..."

"Listen to Dad, Jaime," said Brienne firmly, knowing that nothing but her ordering him as round as if he were a knight and she her commander would get him to obey. "Don't you want to be _awake_ for Alys' first few days?"

Jaime's mouth became a pouty little line. "Yes, but I don't want to leave you with the burden of looking after _our_ baby."

"It is not a burden! She is asleep quite a lot of the time, and only needs feeding and changing every hour. I can manage that." When he started to object, Brienne cut across him. "Sweetheart, please. Go home. I'll be fine."

"We will make sure you are back here as soon as possible," said Sansa, her voice honey sweet in her attempt to be reassuring. "I promise."

With Brienne, her Dad, and Sansa all looking at him encouragingly, Jaime's resistance crumbled and soon he was nodding forlornly. "Okay," he sighed, stepping forward and pressing an insistent kiss to Brienne's lips, "but keep your phone on. If anything happens, call me at _once."_

"What would happen?" she asked bemusedly.

"Just... well... if you need anything, call me."

* * *

After more kisses from Jaime, Brienne's Dad and Sansa eventually managed to persuade him to leave, although that was only after he got them to make him another promise.

"We've got to talk to Catelyn, I need to talk to her about Brienne's stay in the ward..."

"Of course," replied Sansa, shooing him out the door. "We'll go see Mum at once. See you later, Brienne!"

"See you later! Look after him for me!"

Once the door had slammed shut, Brienne listened to her Dad, Sansa, and Jaime disappearing down the corridor, their voices becoming quieter and quieter with every step they took. Resting back into her pillows, Brienne smiled. She was so thankful that her Dad and Sansa had talked Jaime into going home; he would work himself into the ground if he thought it would help her or Alys in any way. Jaime loved their new daughter very much, that was already clear, and it just made Brienne love him even more than she already did.

 _Alys,_ Brienne mused, turning her gaze to look at her daughter. _My little love. Our daughter._

Although the little girl had been fed recently, she was not yet asleep. Lying in the cradle by the window, Alys was looking up at the ceiling aimlessly with her big blue eyes. Her serene expression made Brienne smile and she was suddenly overcome with the desire to do nothing but cuddle her daughter. "I'm coming sweetie," said Brienne as she got out of the bed. Still sore, Brienne had to move slowly, but Alys did not seem to mind. In fact, when she lifted her into her arms, Alys stretched her pudgy little fingers towards her, then began to mouth at Brienne's chest. "Oh," she smiled. "Is someone hungry again?"

Although her baby could not speak, Brienne new from her soft movements that she wanted a feed, so she carefully pulled down her hospital shift so Alys could drink. It took a few moments for Alys to get attached, but once she did, she started suckling enthusiastically.

"Good girl," breathed Brienne, carefully cradling Alys' head in her big, freckled hand. Just then, she spotted the gold, downy hair peppering her crown and it made her heart warm. "Oh, I think you are going to look like your Daddy, aren't you? That's very lucky, because he looks very pretty... and he has very kind eyes. I hope you get his eyes and not... not hers."

Brienne had not thought much of Alys' biological mother since she had given birth, but now Cersei did cross her mind. From all she knew of the woman, Brienne had painted the picture of a cruel, arrogant monster who had belittled and abused Jaime, and was more enamoured with her fame than looking after this little baby she had helped make. Brienne hoped to the depth of her soul that Alys would turn out nothing like her.

"I'll do my best to look after you," said Brienne once Alys had finished her drink, "and help you be a good person." As she spoke, she slipped her shift back on, taking care to hold Alys gently while she did so. "I will try my best to be a good mother to you, and always act in your best interest. I want you to be happy and healthy... because I love you so much already."

As Alys gazed up at her with her blue eyes which, fleetingly, Brienne thought looked like her own, she could not help but get a little teary.

"I never thought I would ever get a chance to be a mother, not truly. I never thought myself quite... right. Aemon has told me that is my negative narrative talking but, deep down, I sometimes still wonder if it is true. How could an ugly woman like me ever find love, in a world where I am competing with Cersei Marbrands? How could I ever be that daughter who could sing to my father proudly and give him grandchildren. Roelle knew I was ugly and, in a strange way, I think she was trying to make me aware of what I am. The freakish one, not fit to be son or daughter."

She sighed, her pain rising to the surface like bubbles in boiling water. Not wanting to lose control, she tried to keep the simmer down.

"I won't ever treat you like that, Alys," she vowed. "I will make you feel valuable and worthy, I will make sure you _know_ it. I won't let you believe that you are only your pretty face; I will love you for your heart, your soul, and your mind, and will always try to do the best for you, even if it breaks me."

Overcome by emotion, Brienne leant down and kissed Alys on the forehead, making the little girl gurgle in what she hoped was delight. Smiling to herself, Brienne retrieved the burping napkin that she had been using from the wheelie table and rested it on her shoulder, before lifting Alys up, drawing her close, and gently patting her back.

"There you go, sweetness," Brienne whispered. "Did you enjoy your milk? Did you--?"

Yet before Brienne had time to finish her question, the door of the ward opened with a slow, dramatic creak. Brienne looked up, baffled. She was not expecting anyone. It therefore came as quite a shock when Cersei Marbrand glided into the room, looking as if she had just returned from a movie premier. She was wearing an emerald green cocktail dress, heels, and a necklace that was probably worth more money than Brienne had ever seen in her life, and she marched into the room as if she were entitled, a queen surveying her court.

"Ah, there you are," she purred. "That short dumpy midwife said I would find you in here."

Holding tightly onto Alys, Brienne found her voice was almost stuck in her throat. The words came with difficulty. "W-w-what are you doing here? This is _my_ hospital ward."

At her attempt at self-defence, Cersei gave her a catlike smile that seemed lifted up by malice. "Oh, I don't mean to intrude, Brianne but... don't you think it is time that you and I had a little chat, girl to girl?"

"About what?"

"About _my_ daughter."

Cersei's eyes seemed to gleam in the room's dim light.

Brienne swallowed nervously, while drawing herself around Alys protectively. "I don't want to talk to you. Get out."

"No, I have a legal right to be here," said Cersei as she sat herself at the foot of Brienne's bed. "The baby is, by the letter of the law, _my_ daughter. She is mine and Jaime's blood, you merely carried her."

The dismissive tone which the superstar used caught Brienne's ire at once. "There is no _merely_ about it," Brienne spat. "Alys was inside me for nine months, she was born of my body, and I... I _love_ her."

Cersei laughed and flicked her hair over her shoulder. "How sweet," she said, as if she did not think it very sweet at all. "Yet in spite of all that sentiment, she is still _my_ daughter. Gods, you should have seen how Jaime _begged_ me to have a baby with him. He was on his hands and knees for a week... although he put his tongue to good use in that time, and not just for persuasive words."

Although she knew Cersei was trying to purposefully rile her, Brienne blanched at the thought of Jaime with another woman. She had never thought herself possessive or capable of jealousy in love, but now it pulled at her very soul. "It doesn't matter what you and Jaime used it be. We are together now. We..."

"Doesn't it?" Cersei's perfectly sculpted eyebrow curved up in an arch. "Surely you must worry that you are not enough for him, considering you are _you_ and I am _me._ How could he go from the most beautiful woman in the world to _you_ and not miss what he once had? When we went to bed, Jaime used to be feral. He couldn't get enough of me; tearing at my clothes, pounding into me, choking me while telling me how hot I made him, all the oral sex I could ever want. When you and he engage in whatever boring vanilla flavour you've got going on, you _know_ he must be thinking of me and dreaming of what we did."

If Cersei had said that to her a few months previously, Brienne might have crumbled. She had initially found it so difficult to understand why Jaime wanted to get into bed with her and why he insisted on treating her which such reverent care. Yet she understood now. It was because he loved her, and she loved him, and it was a way for them to translate their love from something internal and secret to something physically real. Jaime and Cersei might have had lots of animal sex back in the day, but Brienne could not bring herself to be jealous or believe that Jaime wanted that with her, because what they did together was a reflection of _them._

It was a reflection of their love and it was more than enough.

"Whatever you have come here to say, Cersei, spit it out," ordered Brienne firmly. "You can goad me all you want about how you and Jaime used to have sex, but the truth is that he is with me now, he's having sex with me, and we share a soulmark. So, stop playing these stupid games and just say what you came here to say."

Cersei's eyes narrowed at the mention of the soulmarks, but she did not kick up a fuss like the first time she had been told. Instead, she fixed Brienne with a smile straight from the movies; it was one that belonged to a villain about to outline her evil plan to the caged hero.

"Okay, I'll be frank. You are going to leave Jaime."

Brienne let out a bitter laugh at Cersei's audacity. "Why in god's name would I do that?"

"Because you know as well as I do that you and Jaime do not have a leg to stand on in legal terms," Cersei replied. "You might both _love_ the baby and have built up a stupid fantasy of the three of you in a cottage in the countryside with the white picket fence, but that is just not possible. It is not reality. You signed the kid away to me when you volunteered to be the surrogate, and I can go to the courts to get her back. They will take my side, especially when I tell them that I have the baby's grandfather on side too. If Jaime objects and persists with trying to arrange the _kidnap_ of my baby by our crazed surrogate, Tywin and I will put in an application for joint custody, cutting him out of the family photo entirely."

As Cersei's smile grew, an icy shard settled in Brienne's belly, cutting at her still sore flesh. "You can't do that, you can't take Alys away from Jaime. He is her father!"

"I know, but the courts will quickly come to see how irresponsible he is when Tywin and I lay out our case," she said. "Not did Jaime start a relationship with the surrogate during the pregnancy, he also went to see a therapist an... Aemon Targaryen, I believe." There was clearly no _believing_ about it; Cersei had done her research. "Tywin has the best lawyers, we could make Jaime look mentally unstable. Financially reckless, too. Yes, he took you to _Archon_ , but that it entirely on the money Tywin gave him. Tywin bought the apartment and the car and the photography studio. The second that monetary lifeblood is cut off, how will Jaime be able to look after the baby? How will he be able to look after himself? How will he be able to afford the _lawyers?_ "

Pulling Alys down towards her chest, Brienne held on tight, wanting her baby's warmth for comfort. "Jaime has money. He's a successful fashion photographer in his own right. He has worked hard and made a life for himself, made his _own_ money. It is wrong to dismiss his hard work and talent."

"But it is nothing on Tywin's money," Cersei said, her eyes glistening green like the dragons she so desired. "You know full well that Tywin would hire the best lawyers in the business and would rip Jaime to pieces for defying him. We told Jaime this back in his apartment, but the poor boy is delusional and doesn't see the truth. He thinks he can come to an arrangement with me, but why would I bother? I hold all the cards, and he is at my mercy. All he would be doing by fighting is throwing you and his daughter to the lions and, I assure you, we like the taste of fresh meat."

Brienne's fury sparked to life like a forest fire. "You evil bitch," she spat, horrified that Cersei would talk of her ex-boyfriend and child so callously. "Why would you do this to them?"

"Why wouldn't I?" smirked Cersei, every inch the villain in her designer dress.

"Because you care about them," snapped Brienne. She hoped the tears she felt behind her eyes were not showing. "Because you want what is best for them, him _and_ her."

At Brienne's attempt to articulate what true love and care was, Cersei let out a little snort. "Jaime is determined to betray me. He wants to swan off with you, take my baby, and everything that is _mine_. He wants to tarnish my reputation. Why on earth would I play nicely?"

"Because you want him back! You want to marry him!"

"I do," conceded Cersei, "but only because I like winning. If Jaime comes back begging on his hands and knees, that is all to the good. There is pleasure in victory."

If she closed her eyes, Brienne knew she would imagine Tywin, Cersei, and all those lawyers, just as they had been on the night that they had invaded the apartment. Looming over Jaime, their shadows cast across the floor, Tywin and Cersei that Jaime would lose his livelihood, lose his daughter, lose everything that mattered. Not wanting to become awash with fear and sadness at what Cersei's goading words could mean, Brienne chose anger.

"I won't let you hurt him," she hissed. "Jaime is a good person who deserves to be happy, who deserves to be able to raise the daughter he loves and wants..."

Cersei smiled once more, this one belonging to the sympathetic ingenue in a gothic horror. "It is all possible. Jaime _can_ be with his daughter, he _can_ be happy, he _can_ avoid conflict with his father... if he comes back to me. If he marries me. If he acknowledges what we all know to be true; that _I_ am the baby's mother and there is no way around that. It is futile fighting when you are doomed to lose, and it will hurt you all more in the long run. Not just Jaime, but you, and your father, and Sansa, and Catelyn, and even the baby herself. You know that Tywin won't let anyone stand against him."

Brienne swallowed, her throat hurting with all the tears she longed to cry. "Why would you do this to Jaime, to your own _daughter?_ " Alys had never felt so little and vulnerable in her arms before. "Why can't you compromise? Why can't you see that Jaime and I are happy together and that we would love Alys to the moon and back? You surely don't want the pressures of raising a child you haven't carried, haven't..."

Her golden hair seemed to shine as if it had just been attended to by the best stylist in the business as she shook ahead. "Step aside," she ordered. Her voice cut like a knife. "Let me have Jaime, let me have the baby, let me have my place in the limelight, and I will not harm a hair on either of their heads. If you stand in my way, I will cast you down and crush everything and everyone you hold dear. Jaime most of all."

With her threats delivered, Cersei got to her feet. Being the consummate actress she was, her venomous stare melted at once into an easy smile that almost looked sincere. "Tywin and I gave Jaime our ultimatum the other night, but he was too dense to see it for what it was. Perhaps you will be able to see things more clearly and will be able to come to a decision that will be beneficial to us all."

Given Cersei's gloating grin, Brienne wanted to say something back - to scream and shout and swear - but instead she found she could not speak because her words were trapped in her chest, pressed into a cage by a deep, dark dread that was now weighing on her.

 _I have to do what is best for Jaime and Alys,_ she thought, wanting to cry. _I don't want to see either of them hurt._

"You don't have long to make your decision; the moment you are discharged from this place, Tywin has mind to set his dogs on you," said Cersei once she reached the door, "so you better make your decision fast."

Confident of her victory in this skirmish, Cersei gave Brienne one more cutglass smile before gazing down at Alys. From anyone else, such as gesture might have seemed affectionate. From her, it was predatorial.

"Isn't it wonderful that she looks like me? Her mother."

She shut the door behind her without another word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading. I would love to hear what you think in the form of a comment or kudos.


	52. Part LII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Jaime returns to the clinic, he and Brienne discuss what to do about Alys...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I am so nervous about this chapter. This is the one I have been aiming for since near the beginning of the story, so I really hope you like it. 
> 
> Hopefully, it won't take me so long to write the next chapter!

As soon as Jaime had slept, showered, and changed, he took a taxi back to Catelyn's clinic.

He did not want to leave Brienne alone for long. It was not fair to abandon her with Alys without help - she was the one who had recently given birth, after all - and he knew there was a possibility that his father or Cersei would attempt to see Brienne while she was vulnerable.

 _It is my job to tell her that they made an ultimatum,_ he thought. _And then we will work out what to do next together._

_Always together._

Yet he knew they did not have time as things currently stood. The moment Brienne left the clinic, she would instantly fall prey to his father, Cersei, and every other smooth-tongued lawyer and amoral lackey they had hired to keep the wheels in the Lannister machine running. Part of Jaime wished he had been honest with Brienne earlier, but what could he do? She had just given birth and he didn't want to overwhelm her with the darkness that came with being a Lannister.

 _I wish we had more time,_ he thought, _so I could collect my thoughts and we could come up with a plan._

On arrival at the clinic, Jaime instantly sought out Catelyn, knowing he was playing against the clock, and needed all the help he could get. Unfortunately, she was a little sceptical.

"I can't just keep her in here forever with no good reason," she said, looking over her reading glasses at him, as she flicked through some near illegible patient notes. "This is a medical clinic, not a hotel!"

"I know, Catelyn, I know... but Brienne and I need time to talk before we go home..."

"Why?"

He sighed, momentarily wanting to hold back, but then Catelyn tilted her head to the side in the way that Brienne sometimes did when she was trying to get some inconvenient truth out of him. It made Jaime's already shaky defences completely collapse, and soon he found himself telling Catelyn everything, about the breakdown of his relationship with Cersei, of his growing love for Brienne, of his father's control over his life. Explaining it all to an outsider made it sound like a horror story, which felt quite strange after a lifetime of normalising his father and Cersei's behaviour.

"Please Catelyn. _Please._ If you can keep Brienne in here just a day more so that I can work out what to do, it will help me so much... it will help _her_ so much too."

Catelyn's brow furrowed as she mulled over her options, tucking a pencil behind her ear as she did so. "Oh, all right, but just because it's _Brienne._ I have no medical reason to keep her here, so it can only be a day..."

"Thank you!" replied Jaime, breathing a sigh of relief.

"One day, do you understand?" she said firmly. "Not a second more. I have other patients to look after..."

Quickly kissing her on both cheeks in gratitude, Jaime was willing to agree to anything. "Of course, of course. I'll talk it out with her and make sure we have a plan by tomorrow."

 _What plan that is, I don't know, but I'll try,_ he thought.

Catelyn gave him a bemused smile, seemingly amused by his excitement. "Just don't cause her too much stress. The days after birth can be complicated and emotional for first time mothers. Try not to upset her."

"I promise," said Jaime, even though he knew deep down that it was impossible to talk about his father and Cersei without causing stress. Consequently, he amended his statement. "Well, I promise I'll try."

After one more warning look, Doctor Stark disappeared down the corridor to go and look after her other patients, leaving Jaime free to go see Brienne. He was expecting her to be resting, but when he entered her room, Jaime discovered that Brienne was wide awake. His first sight of her made him smile, as she was holding Alys in her arms and gazing at her with all the love in the world, but then he looked again and saw there were tears on her cheeks. He was across the room with his arms around them both in a heartbeat.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, as he shuffled onto the bed beside her, making a protective shell around them both with his body. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

She shook her head, her eyes still on Alys. "No. I don't think there is anything you can do... I don't think there is anything _we_ can do."

There was something in Brienne's tone - sad and strangely resigned - that made a pit of dread lodge itself in Jaime's stomach. He knew once Brienne got fixed in a certain line of thinking she became as difficult to shift as the Wall, so was worried she would prove immovable.

"Cersei came to visit me."

Jaime's heart sank; he feared he was too late. "I hope you told her to leave before she could spit out any of her poison."

"I tried," admitted Brienne, finally pulling her gaze away from Alys, "but she refused to go. She rightly said she had all the cards."

"What cards are those?" His tongue felt thick.

"That she is legally and biologically Alys' mother. That I signed away my rights when I agreed to be your surrogate. That as Alys' biologically mother, she would have rights over you, Alys' biological father, in a court of law... especially if she had the support of your father... and if he cut off your monetary support."

The pit of dread in Jaime's stomach began to grow into something bigger, its tendrils reaching across his body to hold him tight, freezing him. "Cersei told you what she and father threatened me with the other night?"

Brienne nodded. Jaime sighed, the weight of his wench's worry pressing down on him. Leaning forward, he kissed her on the cheek. He had hoped the gesture would be reassuring, but Brienne turned away, looking back down at Alys. Their little girl gurgled, unaware of the drama unfolding above her.

"You can't listen to her," he said firmly. "She is painting things in the worst possible light, as if we don't have options..."

Brienne let out a laugh with no bite behind it and turned to look at Jaime once more, her blue eyes bearing shadows that he believed that he had long since chased away. "What options, Jaime? Our lawyers told us that for us to have a case against Cersei, something would have to have been wrong with the implantation process, and as far as we can see, there wasn't. And after the conversation I had with her, it is clear that we don't have a hope in all Seven Hells..."

"There's always hope," he countered. "You taught me that, wench."

Brienne seemed surprised by that heated honesty, as she blushed in that pretty way that he adored. Nevertheless, the shadows did not leave her face. "Hope is not a _plan,_ Jaime. Cersei has a right to her child the moment I walk out of this clinic, and I am nothing more than a perfect stranger. The fight starts immediately; there is no time to even think. We're out of time."

She looked at him with such resignation that Jaime felt a flash of anger. It felt as if he had been fighting for Brienne for so long, yet she would give it all up when the going got tough.

"Are you really so scared of Cersei?" he asked, unable to rid himself of the tremor in his voice. "That you would give me and Alys up without a fight?"

"It's not that I'm not prepared to fight..."

When she broke eye contact again, his anger grew. "Then what is it? Is it that you are a coward? Do you fear my dad that much?"

"You told me what he did to Tysha. You told me..."

"But he wouldn't do that to you!" Jaime thundered, without really believing it. "And if he tried, he would have to get through me first, because I would protect you."

Brienne rolled her eyes as if she was dealing with some petulant child. "You always think things are going to be so easy, so simple."

"No, I don't!"

"Yes, you do!"

"No, I don't!"

"Yes, you do!" snapped Brienne, her voice finally cracking. "Part of you has always been living in a dream world; first it was Cersei who was going to give you a perfect life, and now me! The real world isn't like that!"

Pulling both Brienne and Alys into his arms, Jaime's restraint broke. "I know it's not going to be perfect," he said, impassioned, "it's not going to be wonderful every day, with harps playing and children singing because we are soulmates, and we are destined to be together. It's going to be _hard,_ but I want to try because I want to be with you."

As he leant forward to wipe the tears from her cheeks, Brienne's irritation broke and she smiled at him - small and sad - echoing all the pain and hurt he knew that she had buried deep for so long.

"Jaime..."

"Yes, Brienne?"

Suspended, Jaime hoped that Brienne would say _yes_.

"You know I love you, don't you?"

"Of course I do," he replied, slipping his fingers beneath her chin so he could behold her. Brienne Tarth - with her pretty calm eyes and wounded vulnerability - really was something incredible. "I never doubted it for a moment, I've always believed--"

"Then you must understand why I have to do _this._ "

He froze, an invisible hand clutching at his throat as his feelings threatened to overwhelm him. "You don't have to do this, you don't--"

"I do," she said, interrupting him again. "Cersei was right. We don't have a leg to stand on in the eyes of the court. If I want to stop her and Tywin treating Alys like an animal carcass, a bloody thing to be torn up and ripped apart as part as a larger battle, I need to step aside..."

"Wench, you don't, you--"

She interrupted him with a sad smile. "I do, Jaime. I _do_."

"You don't," he repeated like a dumb parrot, his throat tightening at the thought he might lose her. "I _love_ you and Alys _loves_ you, and we can be a family. Fuck Cersei and fuck my father, I will do anything to be with you, Brienne. _Anything._ Seven hells, our soulmarks say..."

Her hand came to his cheek, silencing him with its softness.

"Jaime," she said, so tenderly it was almost as if they had just woken up in bed together. "Our soulmarks may say we are meant for each other, but they don't tell us anything about our circumstances. In the real world, we've got no chance... and I have no choice."

"Brienne..."

A tear rolled down her cheek, but from his position beside her - wedged next to Alys - he was in no position to stop it. "I love you so much," she said, her voice hoarse in the same way it was after they spent hours kissing. "You have made me happier than I have ever been in my life, happier than I ever thought possible. I love you so much that I don't have the words to explain it. You are so special to me, that there is only one person in the world I would give you up for."

Jaime found it difficult to speak, so the single word eventually came out in a croak. "Who?"

"Alys."

At the evocation of his daughter, Jaime looked down at her, to find her on the cusp of sleep. There was something about her expression - milk-content - that made him convinced that Brienne had just fed her. Cersei could never be so casually caring.

"If I fight and we lose, your father and Cersei will take her away _forever._ You won't be able to see her... and that would break my heart, because I know how much you want to be a father and what a _good_ father you will make. I wouldn't want to be a part of taking Alys away from you, Jaime, because you deserve to have someone to love. And, gods, Alys would be so lucky to call you her daddy. So, _so_ lucky."

There was no one Jaime had ever met that talked about him as sweetly as Brienne, as if he was someone to treasure and admire. That she was doing it while trying to walk away almost broke his heart in two. "But if you walk away, Alys won't have you in her life... and... and... neither will I."

"I wouldn't do this if I thought I had any other choice," said Brienne, the tears now rolling down her cheeks like a river. "I've talked to Aemon about what love is so many times now, and maybe it is this; giving you and Alys up so that you have a chance to stay together. I won't get in the way of your happiness."

"How can I be happy if I'm not with you?" His voice broke on that word - _happy_ \- and Jaime found himself crying just as she was. "How can I live without you, without our family, when I know that we are so close to having something so good?"

Given that she was holding the baby, Brienne could not reach out to soothe him, so instead kisses him. The press of her lips was hard and passionate, and Jaime wasted no time in seeking out her tongue with his when she opened her mouth on a sigh. Alys was not disturbed by her parents, even as Jaime lifted his hand and entangled it in Brienne's hair, relishing the way she moaned into his mouth as he held onto her.

Was there anything else more perfect than this?

When Brienne broke the kiss, Jaime thought for a transient moment that she was reconsidering, that she would see a path though the darkness that he couldn't. She had always shone with such light, that if anyone could find a way through, it was Brienne.

"You know this is the right thing, don't you?" Brienne said, her voice gentle as a kiss. "For her?"

Jaime closed his eyes and nodded; he did not want to see the end written on her face. "I wish it were different."

"So do I, more than anything," answered Brienne, her blue eyes holding all her love for him. "But I won't have you and Alys separated in the vain hope that we might be able to be a three. I _won't._ "

Jaime swallowed heavily, trying to hold off the heartbreak for a few more seconds. "Brienne?"

"Yes, my love?"

Even now, her gentleness floored him.

"Can we take some photos of the three of us right now? As a family? So we can remember?"

She blushed sweetly in the way that he adored.

"Yes, Jaime. That sounds lovely. Will you put your arms around me?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! As ever, comments and kudos are a great seratonin hit, so I would greatly appreciate them :)


	53. Part LIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Separated from Jaime, Brienne wonders what to do about her future...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's an update of this beast. I am amazed that we are now in the final straight. Fewer than ten chapters to go!

Brienne Tarth shared her last kiss with Jaime Lannister in her room in Catelyn's clinic, her hands cupping his face as she wiped the tears from his cheeks.

"I'm going to find a way around this," he vowed, his eyes bright and intense. "I promise you, wench. Whatever it takes, I'll make sure we are together again."

Although she could not bring herself to believe him, Brienne nodded firmly and gave him another kiss, before resting her forehead against his. "I know you will," she said, even as her stomach sank with the absence of belief, "but for now we've got to do _this..._ for Alys' sake."

It was for Alys' sake that she let go of Jaime, and for Alys' sake she kissed her daughter on the forehead, and for Alys' sake she packed her few belongings into her bag, and for Alys' sake she looked at Jaime one last time.

"Goodbye, Jaime," she said, barely able to see him because of the tears welling in her eyes.

"Goodbye, Brienne." His voice was little more than a croak.

She stole one final kiss - one final, tremulous kiss - before stepping away, trying not to see the hurt in his eyes or the way he gripped hold of Alys, as if he feared someone would steal her from him if he looked away for even a moment.

 _No one will take her away from him,_ thought Brienne firmly. _Not_ _if I step aside._

Unable to bring herself to look at Jaime, their daughter, and their life together a second longer, Brienne turned her back on them and exited the hospital room, leaving everything behind.

 _It's for the best,_ she told herself.

_The best._

* * *

In spite of the fact she had just given birth a few days previously, Brienne got the bus back to her old flat in Flea Bottom, trying not to cry in public. It was extremely difficult, especially when she glanced across the aisle to see a woman reading _Rytsas_ magazine, the front cover plastered with a huge, glossy photo of Cersei. _Cersei Marbrand: The Woman Who Has It All_ screamed the headline, lying with every word. It caused tears to well in Brienne's eyes.

 _Cersei might have most of the life I want, but she will never have Jaime,_ thought Brienne. _He loves me, he said so, he said..._

The extent to which Cersei had exorcised Brienne from Jaime's life became apparent the moment she returned back to the place that used to be her home (but was now _not_ home, because Jaime and Alys weren't there) and found Taena Merryweather waiting for her on the doorstep, a huge suitcase sat next to her.

"What are you doing here?" asked Brienne, aggressive in her suspicion.

At her question, Taena stepped forward, her kitten heels clicking against the pavement. With her flashy clothes, flashy nails, and even flashier smile, she looked set to pounce. Raising her jaw defiantly, Brienne stared down her opponent; now Cersei had won the war, she would not let her do a victory march.

"Cersei and Tywin wanted you out of the apartment. Here are all your things." As she waved her hand at the suitcase, Brienne could not help but note how her entire life with Jaime had consisted of so few physical belongings. "Now she's back from Dorne, Cersei has moved back in. She wants the opportunity to build a family with Jaime and Alys and doesn't need to be haunted by your things. So here they are."

Brienne swallowed heavily, wrapping her fingers around the handle of the suitcase to steady herself. She didn't want to cry in front of Taena; it would only be reported back to Cersei.

"Well, if that is everything..." Brienne said stiffly, dropping her eyes to the pavement.

Unfortunately, it was not all.

"Try not to take it too hard."

Brienne looked up at the PA in surprise. In spite of her confrontational tone, her words were soft, so Brienne could not immediately tell if it was a form of mockery. However, when Taena spoke again, it was clear she was being quite sincere.

"Cersei always gets what she wants... in the end."

Although there was something resembling kindness in those words, the inevitability of that statement made Brienne bristle. "Well she _shouldn't_. Other people aren't her toys to play with. It's not fair."

Raising her eyebrows at Brienne's comeback, Taena laughed, and Brienne could not help but think that there was a strange kind of bitterness behind it.

"Life isn't fair, Brienne. Haven't you learnt that by now?"

* * *

In the coming weeks, Brienne tried to distract herself from the empty hole in her heart where Jaime and Alys used to be with mundane tasks.

She half-heartedly worked on her thesis, pretending that she still cared. Sansa visited regularly bearing Arbor Red - "you've haven't had a drink in ages. Let yourself unwind!" - and Brienne would take a few sips just to humour her. She booked study dates with Lyanna in the library. She went to the cinema alone to watch weird arthouse films that Jaime wouldn't like and tried to enjoy them. Yet none of it made any difference. Every time she heard a baby cry - on the TV, through the wall she shared with her neighbours, while out for a walk in the park - her breasts would express milk, wetting her shirt, and her arms would suddenly feel incredibly light because she was not holding _her_ baby. And at night, when she was meant to be sleeping, all she could think of was Jaime - _her_ man - and how cold it felt without him. To her great shame, to appease her aching longing, she touched herself thinking about him, even though she knew it was impossible, even though she knew it was...

Her phone buzzed.

Sitting upright, Brienne leaned across to her bedside cabinet to retrieve it, and almost gasped when she saw the message.

 _Unknown:_ Hey wench, it's me.

 _Unknown:_ I've got a burner phone. This is the number you can contact me on. Message me, please.

 _Unknown:_ I've missed you so goddamn much.

* * *

Brienne did not reply to him for days. The lawyers had made it quite clear that their salvation lay in Cersei's magnanimity - given that there was no indication that Dr Qyburn had done anything untoward - and there would be even less chance of that if Cersei discovered that they had been communicating behind her back. Consequently, Brienne had been trying to impress upon herself the need to stay away from Jaime and Alys. If there was even the smallest chance that they could be a family again, it would rely upon Brienne keeping her distance. And if there was _no_ chance... well, Brienne knew that if she ever wanted to be happy again, she had to try to forget. Holding onto a life she could not live would only lead to regret.

Unfortunately, Jaime didn't seem to see it that way.

 _Unknown:_ I think we should use code names when staying in touch, just to be on the safe side. I can be Leo and you can be Sapphire.

Even though the ridiculousness of it made Brienne smile, she still did not answer him. To avoid having any time to spare in which she might fade away into wistful thoughts, Brienne had decided to devote herself to thoroughly cleaning the flat. It had been empty for several months, so needed a deep cleanse. Wanting to get away from the constant buzzing of her phone, Brienne turned the TV on.

"Today, _Entertainment News_ is proud to give you an exciting preview, as Cersei Marbrand introduces her daughter Jeyne Rhaenyra Lannister to the world. Alongside her fiancé, billionaire Jaime Lannister, Cersei and Baby Jeyne took part in an exclusive photoshoot for _Rytsas_ magazine. Jocelyn Swyft is here to tell us more."

Looking up from cleaning the coffee table, Brienne watched in horror as Jaime, Cersei, Alys, and their new family invaded her living room. It was Jaime who was holding the baby, standing stiffly beside Cersei, who was attempting to wrap her arms around him.

The sight made Brienne feel sick to her stomach.

"Jaime and I have been excitedly preparing for the birth for months," came Cersei's voice over an image of her holding Alys. "I have wanted to make our family complete for so long, that now Jeyne is here I can barely believe it."

"And how do you feel about the baby, Jaime?" asked Jocelyn, speaking in that insincere way natural to Entertainment News readers. "Were you with Cersei for the birth?"

There were a few moments of silence before Jaime answered, and his words were carefully chosen.

"Yes, I was at the birth. I helped the mother through it, and I felt very connected to her and Al-- Jeyne. It was the happiest moment of my life."

Although she could hear Jaime's truth behind his words, the poison lies were too much for Brienne. Through Jocelyn Swyft's frothy, excitable delivery, the ruination of her life had been turned into easy consumption for bored people, mindlessly flicking through the cable channels.

 _I can never escape it,_ she thought sadly, an invisible weight pressing down on her chest. _As long as I stay here, I will have to live with these lies. I will have to live in a world obsessed with these lies._

As her eyes filled with tears, Brienne turned the TV off and turned back to thoroughly cleaning the coffee table. Her attention was immediately caught by a colourful flyer that had fallen to the floor, that she vaguely remembered picking up in the hospital after Jaime's injury.

_Tired of the stressful, hectic King's Landing life? Come and volunteer in Lhazar! Build Communities. Build Confidence. Make friends for life!_

_Contact Daenerys Targaryen at the Lhazar Tourism Board for more information!_

Brienne wondered if Lhazar was free of celebrity gossip.

* * *

_Leo:_ Wench, is this still your number? I messaged you days ago and you haven't got back to me.

 _Sapphire:_ I've been thinking.

 _Leo:_ Oh my god, she *is* alive.

 _Sapphire:_ Stop it. I'm being serious.

 _Leo:_ Okay. You're being serious. I'm listening. 🤐

 _Sapphire:_ I'm not sure it's a good idea for you to be contacting me.

 _Leo:_ Why?

 _Sapphire:_ Cersei or Tywin might find out.

 _Leo:_ I told you, I got a burner phone specially to talk to you.

 _Sapphire:_ It might hurt Alys.

 _Leo:_ Wench, if we don't do it like this, we might not be able to communicate *at all*.

 _Sapphire:_ I thought that was the price we agreed to pay to keep Alys safe?

 _Leo:_ There are prices and there are *prices*. I'll do all the entertainment news/smiling for the cameras shit that Cersei wants for Alys, but I can't not hear from you at all.

 _Sapphire:_ Jaime...

 _Leo:_ I love you, Brienne. And yes, being separated sucks for now, but I'm going to find a way for us to be together again.

 _Sapphire:_ Jaime, we _tried,_ and the lawyers told us there needed to be an anomaly in the implantation process or Cersei needed to hand Alys over. We know the first is an impossibility because I ended up pregnant, and Cersei is never going to surrender Alys. Maybe it is time for us to accept reality.

 _Leo:_ I'm not going to accept anything if it means not being with you xxx

...

 _Sapphire:_ I love you so much.

 _Leo:_ I know. So please talk to me.

* * *

Lyanna was a good study buddy. She kept similar hours to Brienne in the library, and she always had a pack of sweets hidden under the table that she was willing to share.

"You should come to the conference the archaeological society is having next week. _Women's spaces, Women's places: Female Footprints in the Age of Heroes._ It will take your mind off things."

Brienne smiled at Lyanna weakly. It was hard to conjure up emotions that looked like happiness or excitement when she felt neither.

"Thanks for the offer, Lyanna, but I think I need more than an academic conference to take my mind off Jaime and Alys."

Lyanna gave her a consoling look. "I'm sorry. I saw an interview with Cersei yesterday. She was holding the baby..."

"Alys."

" _Alys,_ " echoed Lyanna. "And repeating some saccharine sweet story that must have been made up by PR. I went through that bullshit with Rhaegar; I know how much it sucks."

Brienne smiled, thankful there was someone else who could understand. Although she had been very young at the time, Brienne just about remembered the media furore around the death of Rhaegar Targaryen, who had been the "voice of his generation". She had never considered how hurtful it must have been to Lyanna, though, who was very young and pregnant with his baby at the time, when the paparazzi had swarmed around his corpse and mythologised him as a martyr.

"What did you do to deal with it?" asked Brienne, abandoning her research entirely in order to turn her whole body towards Lyanna. "Because I am finding it difficult to function. Everywhere I go, I am reminded of these horrible _lies_ that people are telling about Alys and where she came from, and the fact that my part in bringing her into the world is forgotten... it's too much. How did you try to reclaim your own story?"

Reaching out, Lyanna rested her hand on Brienne's and gave her a sympathetic smile.

"I got the hell out of there."

Brienne's eyes went wide. "You did?"

"Yep," replied Lyanna. "Just until the worst of it died down. While paps were running around trying to get one picture of me as the weeping, wailing girlfriend, me and my friend Wylla went to stay at an exclusive resort in Dorne for a few months. There were no paparazzi _there,_ I can tell you, and we took the time to look after ourselves. I ended up enjoying it so much that I stayed there much longer than I intended. I actually gave birth to my son Jon at the Tower of Joy Hospital in Dorne. By the time I had him in my arms, the paparazzi had moved on to other scandals, I had remembered who I was, and we were able to go home."

 _Home._ Brienne didn't really know where that was anymore.

"Do you think that is what I should do?" asked Brienne.

Lyanna furrowed her brow. "What?"

"Get away... go somewhere that is free from these lies."

Lyanna's confused expression instantly turned into one of concern as she squeezed Brienne's fingers. "I cannot say what you should do, just that I know Dorne was a good choice for me."

Patting Brienne's hand gently, Lyanna gave Brienne a sad smile before retreating and returning to her work. It was all the answer she needed.

Instead of her thesis, Brienne suddenly found herself thinking of Lhazar.

* * *

_Leo:_ Do you want me to send you a photo of her?

Given that she had just turned her light off to go to sleep, Brienne did not answer immediately. She had the photos that she and Jaime took at the clinic and she _treasured_ them, so was not sure she needed more. Part of her thought that any photo of Alys would only upset her - seeing her grow and change would cut her deep - but in that moment, she wanted to feel close.

 _Sapphire:_ Okay.

 _Leo:_ ♥️

It took Jaime a few moments, but soon an image was sent through. Taken one-handedly, it showed little Alys being held by Jaime, her bright blue eyes turned up to the camera. She had grown in the weeks since she was born, and now seemed alert to the world at large.

 _I've already missed so much,_ thought Brienne, as tears came to her eyes. _I've missed so much of who Alys is, who she is becoming._

 _Leo:_ I can't shake the feeling that she's inherited your eyes.

 _Sapphire:_ You know that is impossible.

 _Leo:_ Still. I like to believe it. It makes you feel close.

As her sadness threatened to overwhelm her, Brienne turned off her phone. It was too painful to view the life she so desperately wanted through the bright screen of her phone.

Everything just felt so far away.

Perhaps she needed it to feel further.

* * *

A week later, Brienne went to visit her dad on Tarth. It wasn't an impromptu visit, but part of a meticulous plan. The day previously, she had gone to visit her supervisor and informed him that she was planning to defer her thesis. Somehow, it did not seem so important anymore, not when she could just leap on a plane and fly absolutely anywhere and still feel that her heart was shattering. At least being thousands of miles away from Jaime and Alys might legitimise her feelings of longing, instead of making them feel small and selfish. The separation was for Alys' own good. What did Brienne's broken heart matter?

The first small step was to go to Tarth and tell her dad what she planned to do. They met at a cafe in Morne, which was high up in the hills, so had a good view of the island. Her Dad ordered an All Day Breakfast, Brienne the pancakes.

"So, why have you come all the way out to Tarth?" asked her Dad, taking a sip of his coffee. "It's not like you. You love the city life."

It was true, she did, but some things were hard to say out loud.

"I wanted your opinion on something."

"What?"

She let out a breath, nervous and tetchy. "I've put my thesis on hold."

" _What_?" repeated her Dad, his voice full of surprise. "But you _love_ your work. You love--"

"I know." She took a sip of orange juice, wanting to overwhelm the bitterness in her mouth. It was as if that emotion was slowly poisoning every aspect of her life. "I just need some time away from it... to think about what I really want..."

"And is that what you wanted my opinion on? Whether you should defer your thesis?"

Brienne shook her head. "No, that's already decided. The thing I wanted your opinion on is... is..."

"Yes?"

Steeling herself, Brienne looked into her Dad's eyes. Only a few weeks ago he had assisted her when she had given birth to Alys. That now seemed a lifetime ago.

"I'm thinking of going away for a while."

"Away?" said her Dad, balking. "What do you mean _away_?"

Brienne decided slowly, thinking that taking him on the journey through her own conclusions was the best idea. "Ever since I was forced to be apart from Jaime and Alys... I have felt like I should be in two places at once. On the one hand, I feel as if I should be with my boyfriend and my daughter as a family, just as we intended. On the other hand, I know that is impossible, and that I need to be as far away from them as I can be for my own sanity. So, I am going away for a few months to help clear my head in... in... Lhazar."

At that word, her Dad's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Lhazar? Why would you want to go all the way to Lhazar? It's on the other side of the world!"

Anticipating her Dad's alarm, Brienne had come prepared for such a question. Bringing out the leaflet that she had carried with her since finding it at the hospital, she placed it on the table, determined to use it as a map to explain the plan she had been putting together since last week.

"I called Daenerys Targaryen of the Lhazar Tourism Board," she said, pushing the leaflet forward. "She runs a volunteer programme out there, that is engaged with the local community and is aiming to rebuild and encourage growth after the recent war there. Of course, that means tourists, and my work would be involved in specifically targeting Westerosi customers to persuade them to give Lhazar a try."

Taking the leaflet off the table, her Dad flicked through it, staring at the glossy pictures of the sunny climes of Lhazar. In spite of the photographs of laughing children and beautiful landscapes, his expression darkened.

"Is it safe?"

Brienne nodded. "According to Daenerys, at least. I spoke with her on the phone at the weekend and she told me that, for a thousand dragons, I can have a nine month position in the Lhazareen Homeland. I'd be volunteering, doing good... and most of all, I'd be distant from Jaime and Alys. I wouldn't have to see them plastered all over the news every single day living the life that I've been excluded from." She took a deep breath, marshalling her courage. "And I even might... I might... find a way to move on."

As her voice quivered with emotion, her Dad's expression turned from concerned to comforting.

"Oh, Starburst..."

"I love Jaime and Alys, Dad," she said, trying to get hold of her herself, even as the thought of them threatened to overwhelm her, "but living without them hurts too much. I need to get away for a while, in the hope that I can remember what life was like without them and that it wasn't so bad."

Reaching out for her hand, her Dad gave her a gentle smile. Brienne interlocked their fingers tightly, appreciating the feeling of being tethered to something real. In truth, she hadn't fully felt that way since meeting Jaime all those months ago. Everything involving him felt like a dream, and now they were parted reality was coming crashing down around her.

"I understand. After your mother died, I wanted nothing more than to run away to try and find something new. But is it all truly lost with Jaime and Alys? Or can you find a way to make it work?"

Hearing the palpable hope in her Dad's voice was as sharp as a knife to Brienne, and it cut just as deeply. She shook her head firmly, denying the embrace of that hope.

"There's no chance," she said, her voice small. "If Jaime were to come back to me, we would lose Alys forever... and I _refuse_ to leave her in the hands of Cersei Marbrand and Tywin Lannister. Point blank refuse. Alys deserves so much better than their mind games and cruelty. And at least, with Jaime, she has a dad who loves her and will do everything to protect her."

As Brienne spoke of Jaime, her Dad's expression grew softer, sad.

"You have a big heart, Starburst."

She laughed weakly, knowing that while he intended it as a compliment, it was also a failing. "I _feel_ too much. And it means I need to get away... at least until I know how to cope."

Back at her Dad's house - her old childhood home - Brienne put the wheels of her plan into motion. She rung up Daenerys Targaryen and confirmed her arrival in Lhazar in two weeks’ time and booked her plane tickets with _Essosi_ Air and made sure she had overhead luggage space. Just initiating such mundane aspects of her escape made Brienne feel a little lighter, especially when she knew that both Lyanna and her Dad could see her the reasoning behind wanting to leave, and it helped assuage her guilt somewhat.

Nevertheless, she thought about calling Jaime one last time.

In the end, she decided against it.

She couldn't find the courage.

* * *

When she returned to King's Landing a week later, Brienne packed her bags and listed her flat. She did not own much, so it was only a suitcase full, the very same suitcase Taena had unceremoniously dumped on her doorstep the day Brienne had returned from hospital. As she had made her mind up in regards to what she was going to do, Brienne called Sansa and told her everything. To Brienne's immense relief, Sansa was surprised, but supportive, and offered one more glass of Arbor Red before she went.

"At least make sure you are always willing to take my calls," she said down the phone. "Lhazar is a long way away, but you are still my best friend. I don't want you forgetting me."

Brienne laughed. There was no chance of that.

"I could never forget you, Sansa! Never."

Over the next few days, Brienne made efforts to tie a neat bow on her life in King's Landing; she managed to find a replacement tenant for her flat, she called her bank, and she arranged her carpet to be cleaned. The only thing she did not do was call Jaime and tell him what she had decided to do. What did one say to someone you loved more than anything but, in spite of everything, had to say goodbye to?

Fortunately (or unfortunately), Jaime chose to contact her one evening after she had just got into bed.

 _Leo:_ Hey wench xxx

 _Sapphire:_ Hey.

 _Leo:_ You okay?

 _Sapphire:_ I'm fine. You?

 _Leo:_ Yeah, apart from the fact I miss you. So much.

Brienne sighed. Jaime sometimes sent her messages like this, and they made her feel warm, fuzzy, and also crushingly sad, especially in light of what she was planning to do. Due to this complex mix of emotions, she didn't immediately answer him. She didn't know what to say.

There was a pause, as the three circles of doom danced on the screen.

 _Leo:_ Do you miss me?

 _Sapphire:_ You know I do.

 _Leo:_ 😊

Putting her phone to one side, Brienne went to lay back down. Although she liked hearing from Jaime, at the same time, she knew in the long term it would do nothing but hurt her. Unfortunately, Jaime seemed intent on starting something, as there was another loud buzz from her phone that accompanied his next message, which prevented her from ignoring him.

 _Leo:_ What are you doing right now?

 _Sapphire:_ I'm just lying in bed, trying to go to sleep.

 _Leo:_ Are you in your PJs? Or have you started sleeping naked? 😏

Not really sure where Jaime was going with this, it took Brienne a moment to answer.

 _Sapphire:_ Of course I'm wearing PJs.

 _Leo:_ The band t-shirt? Or the two-piece with the little shorts?

 _Sapphire:_ Why does it matter?

There was another pause as Jaime evidently thought about what to say.

 _Leo:_ I just want to imagine you better.

 _Sapphire:_ Why?

 _Leo:_ Because I'm naked, horny, and think we should virtually 😘

That he was so blunt about what he wanted almost made Brienne drop her phone. Even from a distance, she was not used to how unabashedly forward her was concerning his desire for her.

 _Leo:_ Well?

 _Leo:_ I think it is a good idea.

 _Leo:_ Do you?

 _Leo:_ Brienne?

 _Sapphire:_ You can't just say stuff like that.

 _Leo:_ Why not? I want to feel close to you.

 _Sapphire:_ Jaime, you know we can't.

 _Leo:_ It's fine. This is my burner number.

 _Sapphire:_ That's not my point.

 _Leo:_ Then what *is* your point?

 _Sapphire:_ Are you any closer to finding a way around the documents I signed?

 _Leo:_ No, but I've put my lawyers on it.

She sighed for a second time. Jaime could be so wilfully blind. It had been due to their own naive beliefs that the power of love could somehow overcome legal reality that got them trapped in this heartbreak in the first place, and now he seemed determined to keep her entangled in it.

 _I won't be entrapped,_ Brienne thought, suddenly. _If I can't have my happiness, then at least I will have my freedom._

 _Sapphire:_ Jaime, I'm going to block your number.

The three dots danced for what felt like an age.

 _Leo:_ What?

 _Sapphire:_ I can't do this anymore. I just--

Before she got to finish her message, her phone rang. She sighed. Of course, it was Jaime. He could not let sleeping dogs lie.

"Wench, what are you talking about?" he asked, his hushed voice barely more than a whisper. "This number is the only way for me to contact you, so you _can't_ block me, you _can't--_ "

"Jaime, I can't do this anymore--"

"Of course we can," said Jaime, his desperation colouring his voice. "It's only until we work out how we can be together again, how..."

A tear rolled down Brienne's cheek, which just made her frustration mount. "There is no _only_ about it _,_ Jaime. You and I both know that there is no way around those papers I signed, and I can't spend the rest of my life waiting for a miracle to happen."

"Wench..."

"No, don't try to sweet talk me," Brienne said quickly, knowing if she did not say it now, she would never have the strength. After taking a deep breath, she went for it. "I've decided to go away for a while, and it would probably be best if you didn't try and contact me."

Jaime audibly gasped down the other end of the line, before embarking on a pause so pained that she could almost hear his heart breaking. "Brienne, you can't. _Please_. I've been thinking... maybe Qyburn did something during the implantation process, maybe--"

Even as Jaime began with his familiar mix of platitudes and conspiracy theories, Brienne knew she did not want to hear it. That they had been parted for weeks was evidence enough that Jaime's lawyers weren't going to magically find some way around the papers Brienne had signed.

She loved him and Alys dearly, but she had also learned to love herself, and that meant she had to think of the future.

"I'm leaving the country for a few months."

Jaime's silence crackled down the phone. It was so loud it made her hold her breath.

"Brienne, please don't do this." His voice was heavy, shaped by his pain. "We can find a way around this, we can--"

Once again, Brienne found herself crying. This time, they shaped by her anger; not with Jaime's heartbreak, but with his disinclination to acknowledge her own.

"We can't, Jaime. We can't," she declared. "You can tell me again and again that we will find some way around this, but you can't even call me with your normal phone, and you whisper when you are on your burner. Although the gods know I love you, I can't be your dirty secret. Therapy with Aemon taught me that I need to care for myself and caring for myself means that I need to acknowledge that not living with you and Alys will only hurt me in the long run. I need a clean break. I need--"

"Wench, don't cry. I miss you too, and you give me the strength to believe that we can find a way--"

As his words turned towards the romantic, Brienne froze. She had had enough of dreams, and Jaime seemed determined to live in a fantasy.

"Jaime, I'm so sorry. I love you, but I'm _sorry._ I'll call you in a few months."

"Brienne, wait, I--"

Hanging up, she immediately went to turn her phone off.

Silence was the only language he would understand.

* * *

To set her decision in stone, the day before Brienne flew to Lhazar, she gave her phone to Sansa for safekeeping.

"I can't be in contact with Jaime for a while," she said, "but when I get back from Lhazar... I might consider it. So can you keep this for me?"

"Of course."

"I've got a new phone - I'll text you the number - but if he tries to call you or visits you with some story about how he thinks he's got a lead, _please_ don't tell him where I have gone. There is no lead, no magic trick that he can perform to make this go away, so I need some time alone to think things through. Hearing his voice, his dreams... he'll just confuse me."

Even as she smiled at her sadly, Sansa nodded and opened her arms. Needing some comfort, Brienne fell into them and held on tightly. It felt like the last small piece of home.

"I'll miss you, Brie."

"I'll miss you too, Sansa," said Brienne. "And I promise I'll call."

Sansa pulled away, laughing. "You'd better."

As words ran dry, Brienne shuffled her feet, unsure of what to say. Luckily, Sansa - armed with a solemn expression - filled the silence.

"Do you want me to call you with news about Alys?"

At the mention of her daughter's name, it felt as if a razor blade, thin and sharp, was being slowly pushed into the muscle of Brienne's heart. She took a deep breath. This would be the hardest part.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I'm going to have to learn I never had a daughter... never had a love... if I am ever going to own my life again."

Sansa nodded understandingly. It stilled Brienne's tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was no doubt controversial, so I'm going to hide now!
> 
> Thanks so much for reading. As ever, comments and kudos make my heart sing!


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